


The Admiral

by TheRedWulf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Admiral!Stannis, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Regency, Author, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Gothic, Her Majesty's Royal Navy, Loss of Virginity, Marriage, Mutual Pining, Pregnancy, Regency, Regency Romance, Slow Burn, Smut, stansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-09-29 11:17:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20435111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Regency - In which Admiral Stannis Baratheon confronts an author and finds something completely unexpected...Picsets are viewableHEREandHERE





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be a one shot, but I am impatient. Some more delicious, regency Stansa for you. Short, sweet and smutty. Isn't that how we like it? 
> 
> For the 300th time I don't consider myself a writer. This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors. :D :P
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Admiral Stannis Baratheon, the hero of the Battle of Storm’s End and the man who single handedly defeated the Greyjoy fleet, was a man on a mission. Men, women and children alike bolted out of his way as he marched down the street, his long legs enabling him to move quickly across the urban terrain. 

Checking the street he crossed quickly, dodging between carts, and riders until his long legs were eating up the sidewalk once more. 

He had only been in the city a sennight, his land legs finally coming in after another year at sea. It was time, unfortunately, for him to venture into society and do his duty to his title. Title, he inwardly scoffed. Win a few battles and the King throws Lordships and obligations at you. Now he had to leave behind a life at sea, a life in the Navy, to find a woman who could tolerate him enough to give him sons. An heir and a spare, preferably. 

Easier said than done when you were cold, aloof and not particularly well-versed when it comes to romancing women of high society. 

He would see to his duty, of course, after he dealt with the despicable Mister Yohn Royce. Glaring at the book in his hand, Stannis grimaced as he continued walking. He had spotted the book at the corner shop near the townhome he’d let for the season, ‘A Tale of Two Ships’ by Mister Yohn Royce and it promised of a naval adventure reminiscent of Admiral Baratheon’s feats. 

A moment of vanity had him purchasing the novella, only to being reading it that night to vast disappointment. It was inaccurate, missing vital details that would bring the reader into the action itself. He had lived these stories and he had a few notes for Mister Royce. And then he was going to hand Mister Royce the book and demand his money back. It was a matter of principle, at this point. 

Checking the house numbers on Vale Lane, he paused in front of number 6. This was where the constable had said he could find Mister Royce. A time of reckoning was upon them. 

Climbing the steps of the modest, well-kept house, he rang the bell and waited for a servant to greet him. The butler was an older man, but well-dressed, ushering him inside and into the library to await Mister Royce. 

“A fan, then?” the butler glanced to the book in Stannis’ hands. 

“Something like that” Stannis explained, watching the butler leave out of one of the two library doors. It was a dark, gothic sort of room, filled with books, statues with a large table and chairs on the opposite side. 

He only had to wait a few moments, browsing the impressive collection of books on the shelves before the man himself arrived. Yohn Royce was not what he expected. Certainly he had assumed a man who wrote such inaccuracies would be the small, wormy sort of man, but Royce was tall, broad and with a shock of bright white hair that made Stannis’ own three and forty feel young. 

“Well, I’ll be” Royce chuckled upon entering. “Admiral Stannis Baratheon himself.”

“Indeed” Stannis replied. 

“It is an honor to meet you” Royce extended his hand and Stannis’ shook it. “You’ve read it then?” he motioned to the book.

“Yes and I would like to discuss a few of the details with you” Stannis did not waste time, opening the book to the first of many marked pages. 

Royce frowned deeply, his forehead a mass of wrinkles but he gave a small nod, “Alright.”

“This here” Stannis read the passage regarding the look of _The Fury_, his ship for many years. “The sails are not red, they are yellow, a Baratheon color” he explained and Royce gave a vacant nod. “And here, when you discuss the anchor pivot you’re not taking into account---” he trailed off as Royce looked closer at the passage, reading it as if he had never seen the words before. 

“Err, yes?” Royce cleared his throat and met his gaze. 

“You didn’t write this” Stannis stated as the epiphany crossed his mind. 

“I did” an unexpected voice joined them from the library’s back door and Stannis turned to see the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Tall, slender, all porcelain skin and fiery curls, she was a goddess sent to tempt him. A siren to sing him to the rocks where disaster awaited. 

She wore a white muslin day dress, a simple bit of fashion but the yellow ribbon at her waist matched the one in her hair. And oh what glorious hair it was. A pile of vibrant auburn curls that were styled in such a way they exposed the porcelain column of her throat. Her eyes, sparking with intelligence, held his boldly, their blue reminding him of the sky over an open sea. 

“My ward, Lady Sansa Stark” Royce explained. “And, if you please, the secret behind the writing of Mister Yohn Royce.”

“You?” Stannis asked her. 

“Me” she smiled, moving into the room. “When I saw that Admiral Stannis Baratheon was here, in this house, I couldn’t stay away. I simply had to meet you” she extended her hand. “I am a huge fan of your writing. The maps on the battle of Storm’s End were so detailed, I felt as if I was there.” 

He was flabbergasted but took her hand and a bowed over it regardless. This beautiful young woman had read his military papers? “You’ve read them?” he asked lamely. 

“I have read all of your reports and documents” she smiled brightly. “I suppose, in another life, I would have been a sailor, but for now I live vicariously through your writings. I actually started writing these stories because of you.”

“You write these?” he lifted the book. 

“I do” she nodded. “My guardian, Mister Royce, kindly lent me the use of his name so that I could seek publication.”

“How many have you written?” he asked. 

“Twenty three short stories” she explained. “This one, ‘A Tale of Two Ships’ is the most recent and my first foray into Naval histories.”

“It is filled with inaccuracies” he stated and her smile fell.

“Yes, of course, I wasn’t actually there, Admiral Baratheon” she replied. “They’re stories, meant to entertain. If they were written for accuracy they would be your reports.”

“You could have consulted me” he paused. “Or any expert.”

“And how would I do such and keep my identity secret?” she countered. “The world only knows me as the orphaned Stark girl, not even in proper society because her family died and her dowry paid for their funerals. Gaining an audience with an 'expert' would have been impossible.”

“You’re Lord Stark’s daughter then” he reasoned. 

“I was,” she said. “Now I am a recluse who writes short stories about adventures I will never have.” He frowned then, arms falling to his sides, but before he could speak, she continued. “How long are you in town?” she asked. 

“The foreseeable future, unfortunately” he replied. 

“In search of a wife, then” she deduced and he was impressed by her sharp mind. “I have a proposal, of my own, for you” she smiled once more. “Let me pick your brain, teach me about what you’ve experienced and help me to write a better, accurate story.” 

“Lady Sansa---”

“Please, Admiral Baratheon” she moved closer and he felt her sudden proximity acutely. He glanced to Royce but the older man was busy pouring himself a glass of brandy. Some attentive guardian he was. 

“Lady Sansa, I do not know the first thing about teaching--”

“Then just talk with me,” she pleaded. “Give me just a small portion of your time. In turn, I can help you to navigate the women of the _ton_.”

At that he paused, “What do you mean?”

“You’re looking for a wife, I can tell you who to avoid. I can make recommendations on character and personality” she suggested. 

“In exchange for knowledge” he reasoned. 

“Knowledge is the best sort of power, don’t you think?” she beamed. “It would be an exchange of knowledge. Mine for yours.” 

“And this” he raised the book. “Won’t happen again?” 

“I promise” she nodded. 

“Alright” he consented. “When do we begin?”

“Now, this very instant” she rang for the butler. “Unless of course you have obligations.”

“Not until this evening,” he replied. 

“Perfect!” she turned as the butler arrived, ordering a tray of luncheon and tea. The older man gave a nod before vanishing and she hurried across the room to the large table that was covered in papers. “Join me” she invited him. 

“I will be in the solar if you need me, my dear” Mister Royce carried his glass out of the room, leaving the door open as he went. 

Stannis set the book on the table, glancing at her notes, sketches and writings. She was clearly working hard on another novella, this one about highwaymen in the North. 

She grabbed a pot of ink and several quills, setting them beside her papers before she sat, “Here” she motioned to the chair beside her. “Sit with me, and tell me everything.”

He sat stiffly beside her, aware that with the slightest movement their legs would be touching and he was not sure propriety allowed him to sit this close to a woman. She did not seem to mind, he noticed, as she scooted slightly closer, picking up her quill. She looked at him expectantly and he cleared his throat. 

“Where should I begin” he asked. 

“At the beginning of course” she encouraged. “And do not stop until you’ve gone through to the end.”

“Beginning” he repeated. 

“What was it like, leaving your home to join the Navy?” she asked and he thought for a moment before he replied. 

Sansa could listen to him talk for hours, and by now she already had been. The table was covered in notes, little tidbits and facts that she wanted to remember and revisit. She had _the_ Admiral himself at her whim and she did not want to waste a second. 

She had been on her way upstairs when she heard Jory, the butler, telling her guardian that an Admiral was here to see him. She had snuck into the hall and was shocked to see the form of Stannis Baratheon, larger than life, in their library. 

She had seen him before--well, she had seen him in a painting before and she recognized him straight away. His hair was now more silver than black, shorn short for easy care, but he looked much the same as his portrait. 

She had gone to the museum every day during their Storm’s End exhibit, just to look at his portrait. She had even sketched it, so that she may have a copy of her own to keep, though her clumsy lines hardly did him justice. 

He was even more handsome than she had imagined he would be. She was tall, as her parents had been, but Admiral Baratheon was a head taller than her, the top of her own head only reaching his broad shoulders. He was lean, but not thin, a body honed by decades of service and war. 

While his features were sharp, his eyes were a soft, midnight blue that held surprising emotion. As he spoke, she could see the emotions playing behind his eyes and it was fascinating. The man had so much more depth than the painting, she found it nearly overwhelming. 

“Oh” she paused as he mentioned something about the maps of Storm’s End. “I have them here” she grabbed the folio from the edge of the table and brought it closer, setting it between them. 

“You had them bound” he ran a hand over the leather of the cover. 

“I did” she felt her cheeks heat. “They are safer this way and I use them quite a bit.” 

“This is likely the nicest copy in existence,” he mused. “The originals are shoved into a drawer--”

“For shame!” she chided with a laugh. 

“I will bring them” he told her. “To our next meeting.”

“That would be lovely” she could have cried with joy. 

“Now then” he flipped open the folio and found what he was speaking of previously. They leaned in as he pointed out several locations on the map and she turned, surprised at how close they were. She could see, upon closer inspection, that his eyes, so deeply blue, had a ring of silver around the edge of the iris and his lashes were impossibly long. 

He noticed then that she was looking at him, rather than the map and paused, meeting her eyes. She smiled, unable to form words as something heavy and unspoken hung between them. 

“Lady Sansa” he said softly, blinking and then abruptly sitting back. 

“Admiral Baratheon” she replied. 

Just then the clock chimed, signalling the hour. Sansa counted back and she realized that she had been with him, lost in their own world for nearly five hours. It seemed as if no time had passed at all. 

“I should be going” he said with a frown. “I have a dinner obligation this evening and were I to miss it, the resulting interrogation would be infuriating.”

She laughed, “I understand. Whatever you do, avoid being alone with Lady Margaery Tyrell and don’t let Lady Cersei, your good sister, pour you a drink.” 

“I will heed your advice well, though I do not drink so that will not be an issue” he slowly stood, then offered her a hand to stand as well. 

She took it gratefully, the warmth of his ungloved hand seeping into hers, “Thank you, Admiral Baratheon, for your time. You will never know how much it means to me.”

“I will return the day after tomorrow, should that be acceptable,” he explained. “Tomorrow I will be at the port to greet Ser Davos as he arrives--”

“Seaworth?” she gasped. “Onion Knight, Ser Davos Seaworth?”

He gave an indulgent smile, his face transforming with the expression, “Indeed. Once he settles in on dry land, I will bring him along.”

“Yes, that would be lovely” she nodded. 

“Until Friday then, Lady Sansa” he bowed and she curtsied, standing to watch him go. He grabbed his gloves and hat from Jory, pulling them on with easy efficiency, before taking his walking stick and coat. 

With his hat on he had to duck to exit the front door, and she watched him through the library window until he was out of sight. Only then did she sink to the couch, a smile permanently etched into her cheeks. 

Friday, she sighed. She couldn’t wait until Friday.


	2. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am legitimately OVERWHELMED by how much love chapter one received! Thank you all SO much!!! You're amazing!!
> 
> This will definitely be a fluffy, short piece (long chapters, but not alot of them), with of course Stannis' inner angst. <3 
> 
> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)

Sansa spent the entire of Thursday writing. She was so inspired by her conversation with Admiral Baratheon that she simply couldn’t stop herself. She began a new tale of a young man that travels far from home, only to encounter a villain from his childhood on the open sea. 

Growing up, her family did not often go to town, so she had to occupy herself in order to pass the time without boredom. Sewing, embroidery, painting and drawing had been deemed acceptable past times for a young lady, but more than anything she loved to read and write. Her mother would frown, but her father indulged her passion. 

Once she had devoured all the books in the Winterfell Library, her father would make sure she had all the parchment and ink she needed to create her own worlds. Her writing, of course, meant that she spent hours upon hours in solitude, but it suited her well. Arya was always with Robb and Jon on whatever adventure they were currently on and her younger siblings were still in the schoolroom. 

Solitude suited her, it had been an odd comfort when she suddenly found herself without a family and standing on the doorstep of number 6 Vale Lane waiting for Mister Yohn Royce, a distant relative of her mother’s, to take her in. 

He was a kind guardian, indulgent in her love of solitude and the written word. She had spent the first year of her life on Vale Lane in the library, reading all of the books he owned. His collection was much different from her father’s and she found herself learning many new things. 

This of course had helped her to expand her story selection. 

On the occasion of her sixteenth birthday, she asked him if he would help her to submit some of her stories for publication. He read a few of them, and frowned, asking her how she planned to do so as a woman? 

Thus Mister Yohn Royce became both a gentleman and an author. He lent her his name and traveled to and from the publishers office for her, bringing them stories and returning with her stipend and any royalties owed. Through her stories she had managed to save quite a bit of money, ensuring she would be comfortable for many years.

Yohn had also indulged her in her eccentricities. Her need to write for hours at a time, her infatuation with the Storm’s End exhibit in the museum and her particular care for Admiral Stannis Baratheon. She was certain that while he had announced he would be in the solar, that he had sat across the hall in the sitting room, ensuring that he could keep an ear on their conversation and propriety. 

He was a good man, her guardian, and she was grateful for him.

She had been so focused on her new story that hadn’t even stopped for lunch, she simply kept writing, pausing only when her guardian sat across from her after setting a tray on the table. 

“My dear” Yohn looked at the papers across the table. “You’ve been in here for hours. You must eat.”

“I lost track of time,” she looked to the large clock, frowning when she noticed it was passed 2 in the afternoon. 

“Did that yesterday, too” he smiled. 

“Admiral Baratheon is a fascinating man,” she admitted. “It was most kind of him to indulge me.” 

“Kind is it?” Yohn chuckled. “It is easy to be kind to a beautiful woman, my dear. I do believe you rather dazzled him.”

“Dazzled? I haven’t any idea on dazzling him” she disagreed. 

“Perhaps his search for a wife will be easier than he expected” Yohn gave a knowing smile and she felt her cheeks heat. 

“I couldn’t possibly” she shook her head. 

“Whyever not?” Yohn countered. “You are a beautiful woman of eight and ten, sharp as a whip and twice as smart. You’ve got a dowry, inheritance of Winterfell and Runestone, no small feat. Clearly you’ve got a soft spot for the Admiral and he couldn’t take his eyes from you. Marry him and be done with it.”

“It isn’t that simple” she replied. “He was given a title by King Tywin, he is a Duke and I am no one--”

“Bugger it” Yohn shook his head. “He is an Admiral, first and foremost. When will he be back?” 

“Tomorrow” she smiled, then caught herself and schooled her expression. 

“I will make sure a nice luncheon is made, you may eat like a bird, dearest, but he will need sustenance if he is to keep up with your mind” Yohn winked and she laughed. 

“Gods you’re looking old” Stannis laughed at his oldest friend as he walked up the gangplank and onto Davos’ ship, the _The Black Betha_. 

“Same could be said for you, welcome aboard, Admiral” Davos shook his hand. “It's good to see you again, it's been too long.” 

“Just over a year” Stannis nodded. “How long are you in town?” 

“A few months, I reckon” Davos reply. “Marya is in the family way again and I am sure she will want help with the others.” 

“I offer my sincere congratulations” Stannis told him as the two men leaned against the ships bow, the figurehead, a grand mermaid, between them. 

“You’ve got a look” Davos always knew him well, could see through him even in the worst of times. 

He had met Davos Seaworth in the course of the First of Napoleon’s Wars. Stannis had been crossing the English Channel when he spotted Davos’ first ship, the _Cobblecat_ taking on water at an alarming rate. Sailing _The Fury_ in to help, Davos had climbed aboard, booming with laughter. 

It seemed with the ships rather intentional loss, Davos’ smuggling career had come to an abrupt end. Stannis, however, had not arrested him, but instead put him and his crew to work on _The Fury_. Davos eventually became his first mate and right hand for the remainder of the war. 

The two men worked well together, despite their vastly different backgrounds and personalities. Even in peacetime, Stannis still called Davos his closest friend, something he was proud of. 

“Do I?” Stannis asked. 

“Aye” Davos chuckled. “Not enjoying the hunt for a wife?”

“I haven’t started yet” Stannis replied. “I had a bit of a delay yesterday.”

“Nothing terrible, I hope” Davos’ smile fell. 

“Far from it” Stannis couldn’t help the twitch of his mouth. “I had a rather lengthy conversation with Lady Sansa Stark” Stannis began. “Who as it turns out is quite the fan of Naval history.” 

“Problem solved then, marry her and have lengthy anything-you-want for the rest of your life” Davos laughed. 

Stannis frowned, “It isn’t that simple.” 

“Whyever not?” Davos paused. “Because you're over complicating it, I reckon.”

“She is young, not yet in her twentieth year I would venture” Stannis explained. “And beautiful…”

Davos watched him for a moment and then gave a nod, “Marry her. Immediately. I have never seen you with such whimsy in your eye and it is, quite frankly, scaring me. I was there to watch you destroy the Greyjoys without a blink, but this...this besotted Stannis terrifies me. Next thing you know, you’ll be smiling.” 

“Be serious” Stannis chided. 

“I am” Davos countered. “When will you see her again? Will you see her again?”

“Tomorrow” Stannis said. “I will call on her in the morning.” 

“And?” Davos prompted. 

“And nothing” Stannis sighed. “I doubt she would want to marry an old codger like me.”

“Won’t know until you ask” Davos reasoned. “When do I get to meet her? Before the wedding, I hope.” 

“Davos--” Stannis gave an exasperated sigh as his friend burst into laughter once more. 

Sansa checked her appearance for the fortieth time that morning, frowning deeply at her curly hair that just didn’t want to cooperate. She was about to try repinning it when the sound of is voice reached her. He was here, she smiled, standing quickly and grabbing her shawl from the bed. 

Moving down the wall and to the stairs she saw him, today clad in all black, as he handed his hat and gloves to Jory. Under his arm was a leather folio, barely visible against the black of his clothing.

“Good morning, Admiral” she greeted as she reached the bottom of the stairs. She extended her hand and he gently held it, bowing over it before rising back to his great height. 

“Good morning, Lady Sansa” he replied. 

“I trust yesterday found you and Ser Davos well?” she asked. 

“It did, thank you” he answered. 

“I spent the day writing” she smiled. “Your information has had my mind working at an unstoppable pace” she motioned to the library door, surprised when he offered her his arm for the brief walk. With barely veiled reverence she placed her hand in the sleeve of his black coat, looking up to see him watching her closely. “Thank you” she whispered. 

“Of course” he replied. He led her into the library and to the table covered with her papers and several large books. Reluctantly, she released his arm as he helped her to her chair, his tall frame sinking to the chair beside her as before. 

“Where shall we begin today” she asked, reaching for her bottle of ink. 

“Tell me of yourself, first, if you please” his deep voice surprisingly soft as he asked. 

Turning back to him she met his eyes, carefully placing her hands in her lap, “There is nothing exciting to tell, Admiral Baratheon.”

“I did not ask for excitement” he clarified. “Simply to know something of you, as you know so much of me.”

“I see” she bit her lower lip as she thought about her reply. It was an unexpected question, but only fair considering she had spent all of Wednesday interrogating him. “I have always been the bookish sort,” she started. “The second of 5 children, and the eldest daughter, I preferred my own company to that of my siblings. My mother insisted on training me to be an accomplished woman who would easily land a husband but I hated my lessons” she laughed softly. “Perhaps if I had paid closer attention, I would not have to depend on my guardian as much as I do.”

“You have no plans to marry?” he asked. 

“Who would want to marry me, Admiral Baratheon?” she countered. “I would love to have a family of my own, but I would not want to give up my writing, as it makes me quite happy.” 

He gave a small nod, “Not all men would ask that of you.” 

“You have been away from society, Admiral, forgive me if I disagree with you” she said quietly, looking to the window for a moment before she turned back. “I’ve always wanted a dog, a wolf perhaps,” she mused. “Have you ever had a pet?”

“A rescued a goshawk once, as a boy” he admitted. “I called her ‘Proudwing’, and though she flew, she was never the same after her accident.”

“A goshawk” she smiled. “How lovely, was she beautiful?”

“Quite” Stannis replied and she treasured this private tidbit he had shared with her. She would never write it, it would always remain theirs alone to share. 

“Before I forget” he watched as she set aside her tea and pulled a piece of paper from the stacks on the table. They had just shared the midday meal, taking a break from their ‘work’ to eat the hearty soup and bread that Mister Royce had sent in. 

“What is this?” he asked as she handed the paper to him. He set his own tea aside and took it. 

“A guide, of sorts” she said quietly. “To the unmarried women of the _ton_.”

A guide indeed, he realized as he scanned the paper. She had listed the names of a half-dozen women and underneath each name was a caution or fact about the woman. He recognized most of the names, but frowned when he saw that she had not included herself. Though, he knew her well enough by now to know that she wouldn’t be so forward to do such.

“Thank you” he folded the parchment and tucked it into his vest pocket.

“You’re welcome” she picked up her tea once more. “I cannot wait for the rain” she smiled at the window and the grey light of the afternoon beyond. “I have always loved the rain.”

“As do I” he agreed. “At sea, the rain is quite refreshing.” 

“I could imagine,” she said. “There is something magical about the world when it rains. Nature is hushed, as if to listen to the drops’ secret message, the air is crisp and clean. There are few things better than to sit in a window and watch the water cleanse the world.”

“You truly have the heart of a writer” he mused. 

She laughed softly, her cheeks flushed from the compliment, “I suppose.”

“I took the liberty of finding several of your other stories” he admitted. 

“How embarrassing” she blushed deeply. “Is that what is in there, then?” she looked to his folio on the table’s edge. “More notes for me to correct?”

“I found your other stories quite intriguing” he shook his head. “I have no such notes for you.” 

“That is a relief,” she said. 

“These” he placed a hand over the leather. “Are the original Storm’s End maps, and several notes I used for my own reports.” 

“Those are…” she swallowed and stood, setting her cup aside to round the table, standing now at his side. “These were in the Storm’s End exhibit” she whispered, touching the leather. 

“They were” he frowned. “Did you see it?” 

Her cheeks were a deep rose pink now, even the slender column of her throat was flushed, “I did, several times,” she admitted and he wondered what was causing her such embarrassment. “May I?” she asked. 

“That is why I brought them” he said, watching her as she untied the closure and opened the book. Rather than look to the papers, he kept his eyes on her, studying her as she reverently touched the parchment, delicate fingers tracing across the outline of _The Fury_. He noticed the slight tremor in her hand, and frowned to himself. 

“These are beautiful” she turned through the pages. 

“Then I will leave them with you to study at your leisure and pick them up at our next meeting. Perhaps I can persuade Ser Davos to join me on Monday” he said and she turned to him, eyes wide. 

“You would trust me with these?”

“They are only papers, Lady Sansa” he assured her. “But yes, I trust you.” 

“Thank you” she reached for where his hand lay on the table, but stopped herself, clenching her fingers as she pulled her hand away. A less observant man would have missed the action, but he had not and found himself wondering at her impulse to take his hand, and the tremor that shook her own.


	3. Part 3

Stannis sat at the desk in his private study, staring at the unfolded list of names on the surface in the early morning light. He had reviewed the list several times, crossing off names as he sorted it out, only to realize when he was finished, he had crossed off every name on the list. 

Standing he paced to the fireplace, running a hand over his face as he leaned against the mantle. He felt stupid, foolish beyond anything he’d felt before. He didn’t want those noble Ladies, gentlemen's daughters or heiresses, he wanted Sansa Stark. 

He wanted her with every fiber of his being. Everything about her called to him, her grace and intelligence, her beauty and poetic heart. He ached for her, the feeling so foreign to him that he did not recognize it at first. He thought perhaps he had taken ill, surely such a sinking feeling in his chest was not healthy. But it was no malady, it was simply the feeling of leaving her side, of being parted from her that had him so out of sorts. 

Soon he would dress for the day and, once he picked up Ser Davos, he would make his way to number 6 Vale Lane and spend another afternoon in her vibrant company. 

It would be trouble, he admitted to himself, to introduce Sansa to Ser Davos. His oldest friend would surely never cease his encouragement to marry her, and he did not have the resolve to resist her forever. 

_Why resist her at all?_ Davos’ voice echoed in his mind and he grimaced. She was young, vibrant and impossibly perfect, why would she want to marry a dour man a quarter century her senior?

Pushing away from the warmth of the fireplace, he readied himself for the day. He dressed in his customary all black, his norm when he was not in the blue and cream of his uniform. Tucking his pocket watch in his vest pocket he looked once more to the list on the desk. 

Clenching his jaw he turned away, determined to forget about his duty and enjoy the day. 

In the decades that he had known Stannis Baratheon, never had Ser Davos seen his friend in such a state. He had seemed in a sour, reticent mood in the carriage but the moment he laid eyes on the, admittedly beautiful, Lady Sansa, Stannis transformed. His grimace melted into a soft expression of awe and his voice lost its sharp edge.

The young woman, one who Davos would never imagined to be as kind and intelligent as he soon learned she was, looked at Stannis as if he hung the very sun in the sky. She had not noticed him at first, her focus solely on Stannis as he took her hand, and so Davos had the chance to watch her unimpeded. 

Tall, slender to the point of being willowy and with the most vibrant red hair he had ever seen, she was a true English rose. Her bright blue eyes seemed to glow with happiness as she talked with Stannis, her hands holding his with gentle enthusiasm. 

“Lady Sansa, Ser Davos Seaworth” he heard Stannis make the introductions and he greeted her properly. 

“I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Ser Davos” she gently squeeze his hand in one of hers as he bowed over it. Her other hand, he noticed, never left Stannis’. 

“It is lovely to meet you” he told her. 

“Come, we can sit in the library and I can torture you both” she laughed. 

“Hardly torture” Stannis replied smoothly, looping her arm over his and leading her as if he had done so for years. 

Davos followed, glancing to the solar where he saw Lady Sansa’s guardian watching with a similar knowing smile. The two men exchanged nods as Davos followed the pair into the library, both of them well-aware of what was blossoming between the others. The library was well-appointed, filled with books and a large table where someone had clearly been working. 

“I suppose, before we begin he should know my secret” Sansa explained as Stannis helped her to a chair.

“Secret?” Davos frowned. 

“I am not sure if you have heard of the writings of Mister Yohn Royce” Sansa began and he nodded. Everyone in the city had heard of Mister Royce. “Well, I am the one who writes them, my guardian has lent me the use of his name so that I may work anonymously.”

Davos had certainly not expected that to be her secret. He had read some of her work and greatly enjoyed it, as had Marya. It was no wonder this beauty had caught Stannis eye, she was much more than meets the eye. 

“Well then” he smiled as he sat across from her. “I suppose he had a few words for you about ‘A Tale of Two Ships’,” he laughed. 

“A few?” Sansa smiled, glancing at Stannis. “He stormed in here and I am fairly certain he was going to ask for his money back.” 

Davos laughed, “That sounds like him!”

“I was, actually” Stannis admitted, his lips twitching in amusement. “But I was able to negotiate a better deal.”

“Yes, I put you to work” Sansa smirked. 

“And yet you’re still not the worst captain I have ever served” Stannis replied and Davos briefly wondered where the _real_ Stannis had gone. Surely this suave, happy man was not his friend! 

“Captain Manderly will always be the worst” Davos stated and Stannis nodded in agreement. 

“I am fairly certain, that he was so large that, should he have rolled out of his bunk, we would have capsized” Stannis said dryly and Sansa’s laughed filled the library. She quickly covered her mouth to muffle the boisterous sound, but she still laughed heartily. Stannis looked to her as if she were the most enchanting creature on earth, and Davos knew that it was only a matter of time before Stannis’ wifely woes were a thing of the past. 

“Tell me, Ser Davos” Sansa asked, pulling a book from the stack beside her. “The _Cobblecat_,” she flipped through the pages. 

“Gods, I haven’t heard that name in years” Davos laughed. 

“Not since I fished you out of the drink as it sank below the waves” Stannis added. 

“That is what I want to know” Sansa moved the book closer. “How does a ship known for its slim lines and speed, sink in the middle of the Channel?” Davos smiled at her, she was a smart one. “Did you scuttle it?” she asked quietly, as if it were some great crime. 

At her question, Stannis let out an off chortling laugh and Sansa turned to smile at him, “Ask him about the cargo” Stannis prompted. 

“Oh?” she looked back to Davos. 

“Guns, bound for the Island of Elba” Davos said. 

“No!” Sansa gasped. 

“Provided by high ranking members of the home office” Davos nodded. “When my crew and I discovered what we’d been paid to smuggle to the French. We scuttled the ship.” 

“How?” she asked. 

“A few well-placed canon blasts to the hull and the weight of the cargo did the rest” Davos explained. 

“Fascinating” Sansa scribbled a few notes in the margins of the book. 

“It was the canon blasts that had _The Fury_ investigating” Stannis added. “And that was how I met Ser Davos.”

“And you two fought in Storm’s End together, in Shipbreaker Bay?” she asked. 

“We did. Onions and boiled leather are two things we will never eat again” Davos laughed. 

“I am sure you are aware that while I was on _The Fury_, Davos was in command of _The Black Bethe_, of which he still commands” Stannis explained. 

“I have heard of her, but I do not have a drawing of her” Sansa flipped through the book.

“You are welcome to come draw her while she is in port” Davos offered. “I will be in town many moons, my wife is with child, you see, and I should like to be here when her time comes.” 

“Oh that is lovely, my congratulations” Sansa smiled. “And I would love to paint her, the mermaid at the figurehead is rumored to be quite lovely.” 

“She is based on my wife, so yes, I agree that she is lovely” Davos smiled. 

“How romantic” Sansa noted. “How many children do you have, Ser Davos?” 

“This will be our fifth, Lady Sansa” he replied. “We already have four sons.” 

“Five children is a wonderful number” she laughed. “I am the second of five--well, I was. Our home never had a moments quiet, growing up.”

“My wife is hoping for a daughter, I believe she wishes to have an ally in the house” he smiled. 

“Then I will pray she gets her wish” Sansa smiled. 

“What?” Stannis glared at him across the hansom cab much later that afternoon as they made their way back to Davos’ home across town. 

“She’s lovely” Davos smiled. 

“Davos---”

“And you’re in love with her” Davos continued and Stannis sighed deeply. “There is no use in arguing, I have watched you two. Magnets, you are, moving in sync.” 

“Falling in love with her would be foolish” Stannis stated plainly. 

“Perhaps, but love often makes fools of us all” Davos reasoned. “She watches you, touches your hand and arm---”

“We have not broken propriety” Stannis argued, disliking that Davos would insinuate such against Sansa.

“I know,” Davos’ voice was soft now, suddenly serious. “If you love her, Stannis, marry her. Do not delay and risk losing her.” 

“Such rejection surely could not be survived” Stannis spoke quietly. 

“If you worry over her feelings for you, then you worry needlessly” Davos assured him. “You are letting your fears control you. Women may not be your expertise, but I have known my share and been married to one for ten years. I implore you to trust me, Stannis.” 

“When it comes to women, Davos, I would not even be a novice” he shook his head. “I should be grateful I avoided love this long, I find it most vexing.”

It was a truth he had never uttered, especially not in proximity of any who might overhear. Which navy man wanted to learn that the Captain they were supposed to follow into battle hadn’t lain with a woman? Hadn’t touched one intimately or even felt the passion of a kiss? 

Before recent events, physical needs were something that had never registered in the forefront of his mind. He left home at age two and ten, sailed his entire life and never stopped to think about which woman he would have next or which he would use to slake a momentary need.

Loose women in ports were to be avoided at all costs, and he never saw the purpose in taking a mistress when he was at sea for months at a time. So it seemed, at least to him, that it was easiest to avoid the fairer sex all together. 

“You would” Davos chuckled. “Don’t run from it, old friend. To love and to be loved is the greatest joy in this world.” 

Stannis heard his friend’s words, but they did nothing to quell the fear roiling in his gut.

Sansa closed her eyes, trying to remember the slant of his jaw and the angle of his nose, conjuring his likeness in her head before she continued. She was perched in the window seat in her bedroom, using the bright light of the rainy morning to paint a miniature bust for herself. 

She had bought the tiny canvas and frame on impulse, using some of the pin money from her recent royalties to indulge herself. She had snuck them into her room where she hid them with her paints. While she was certain no one would be in her room, she also didn’t want to leave it in the open. 

Today, she pulled the canvas and her paints out, arranging them neatly before she opened her diary to the page with the worn satin ribbon, one of her mother’s hair bows, and smiled at the sketch of Stannis’ portrait. She had worked quite hard on it, during her trips to the museum, and while her skill had improved some in the past year, she still wished it looked more like the man she had come to know.

She had been working diligently on this new portrait since she woke, and she was quite pleased with how it was coming along. It would be easier, of course, to paint with him in front of her, but then he would know her secret and she could never allow that. 

Though, she paused in her work to frown, having a sketch or painting of him was not her worst secret. No, she was also hiding the fact that she was terribly in love with him. It seemed to come on slowly but happen all at once, the strong, serious Admiral had stolen her heart and she had no idea where that left her. 

Well, she knew that it left her wishing for something she couldn’t have. He needed a proper Lady-Wife, and while she held the title, she also held the scandal of being orphaned and sent to live with a distant relative of no consequence, on the edge of the dodgy part of town. She had no proper season, no debut and no woman to sponsor her into society. 

Stannis was a Duke, far above her own station and it was foolish of her to adore him so. She looked to the sketch in her diary and smiled, he had a good heart, pure and kind, and he made her laugh, made her feel intelligent. 

“Foolish girl” she chided herself, returning to her painting. She would indulge herself in this bust, the memories she had with him and when he married a proper woman, she would have to let him go. 

Perhaps, she sighed. A story of heartache was in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)


	4. Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)

“Oh, they’re perfect” Sansa gasped as the large forms of _The Black Bethe_ and _The Fury_ came into sight. She looked to Stannis, who stood strong beside her in his brilliant uniform, his hand over hers where it rest on his arm. Today she would get to see him in his element, in his true home.

Rather than stay in the library today, they were taking advantage of the break in the rain and visiting the great war galleys in port. Since she had no maid or chaperone, Ser Davos and Lady Marya were with them, their boys staying at home with their nanny for the afternoon. 

Sansa had instantly liked Lady Marya, she was a kind, bubbly woman with a soft smile. Her dark hair and eyes looked decidedly exotic and Sansa appreciated her beauty. While Marya was visibly with child, she still had several moons to go, at least from what Sansa’s memory served. 

“Come” Stannis escorted her away from the Seaworths and to the roped gangplank leading to _The Fury_, helping her to keep her footing as they climbed over the water and onto the deck. “Welcome aboard” his deep voice said with a smile. 

Sansa was fairly overwhelmed, drinking in every detail that she could of the great war ship. From the flaming stags amidst a fields of gold and the beautiful woodwork, she found _The Fury_ to be the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“I adore her” Sansa reached a gloved hand out to touch the polished railing. 

“Admiral!” a voice called out and Sansa turned in time to see a barefoot young man in tan beeches and a linen shirt swing down from the crow’s nest. 

“Storm” Stannis gave a nod. “You were asleep again, or you would have spotted me on the docks” he noted. Sansa realized then that Stannis’ voice had transformed, holding authority and steel that she had not heard since he confronted her guardian in the library. This man, whose arm held hers, was Admiral Stannis Baratheon. 

“Maybe” the young man smirked, then looked to her. “Is this her then?” he gave a bow. “Edric Storm, at your service, Lady Barathe---”

“Storm” Stannis cut him off. “Lady Sansa Stark” he introduced her. “Lady Sansa, Mister Edric Storm.”

“It is nice to make your acquaintance,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt at being nearly called Lady Baratheon. 

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Sansa” Storm bowed, looking to his Admiral with a questioning gaze. 

“We will be here for a little while, is there anything pressing I need to handle?” 

“We’re all right as rain, Admiral” Edric smiled. 

“Good” Stannis said. “Back to the nest with you, no sleeping.” 

“Aye aye,” Edric gave a nod and ascended the ropes once more. 

“How does he climb so quickly?” Sansa asked as Stannis escorted her to the quarter deck at the stern. 

“Edric has been at sea since he was a child of five” Stannis explained. “He snuck aboard when his mother died and he had nowhere else to go. I took him as my personal steward and when he was old enough, he was promoted to midshipman. He is a very capable young man.”

“You raised him, then” she smiled up at the stern cut of his jaw. 

“In a way,” he said. “We all raised him. He never knew his father.” 

“You are perhaps the only father figure he has ever known” Sansa reasoned. 

“I never thought of it that way,” he admitted. 

Sansa smiled, knowing that the boy had a spot in the Admiral’s heart, even if he would deny it. She looked across the water to see Lady Marya and Ser Davos give a wave from the deck of _The Black Bethe_, and from here she could see the beauty of the mermaid carved into the front of Ser Davos’ ship. 

“She is beautiful” she admired the intricate work. 

“I believe this is the best view from which to sketch it” he nodded to her small bag that carried her diary and pencils. “You will be safe here, Storm is watching. I am going to walk to my quarters to grab a few papers and I will be back.”

“Of course, thank you” she smiled as his arm released hers and he stepped away. She watched him go, cutting a fine figure in his naval blues, the large Admiral’s hat atop his head making his height even more intimidating. 

When he was out of sight she pulled her diary from her bag and opened it to a fresh page, settling in to capture the beauty of the mermaid. 

Stannis quickly grabbed what he needed from his quarters and returned above deck to watch her as she sketched. 

She wore a deep blue long pelisse coat over her grey dress, a grey bonnet hiding her fiery hair and porcelain skin from the sun. She worked quickly, her gloved hands moving rapidly, pausing occasionally to look back at the mermaid carving and then resume once more. 

Her tall form looked at home amongst the dark wood of _The Fury’s_ deck, she had even expressed adoration for his precious ship and true home. Would she want to make it her home, however, for at least for part of the year? 

At this point, there was no denying that he was in love with her. Within the fortnight that he had known her, she had captured his mind and his heart, both now filled with thoughts of her. She was all he seemed to think of; at dinners, parties and balls he was forced to attend with his drunkard of a brother, Robert, the Duke of Storm’s End, all he wanted was to be back with her, at her side in the quiet of their shared moments. 

Now, he supposed, he would think of her here on the deck of _The Fury_, at his side, sharing a life with him. 

The breeze picked up and she paused her drawing, turning her face to the fresh air, eyes closing as she smiled softly. This was how he would picture her, he decided. This moment of serene beauty that was purely Sansa. 

She returned to her drawing and he watched as she moved to the opposite page, her eyes now looking to him as they worked. She smiled shyly, both of them locked in an odd sort of silence as she sketched him now. 

After several minutes she closed her book, tucking it in her bag before she moved to his side. 

“Where better to imagine Admiral Baratheon than on the deck of _The Fury_” she smiled up at him. 

“Do you like her?” he found himself asking. 

“I love her. She is beautiful, more so than anything I have ever seen,” she admitted. “More so than _The Black Bethe_ but do not tell Ser Davos I said so” she teased. 

“I will not” he promised as another ship sailed passed them, heading out of the docks. Stannis turned to look at the crew of _The Lady’s Shame_ as they whistled and waved from the shrouds and masts. He raised a hand in salute and they whistled louder, his movement having exposed Sansa to their eyes. 

“Oh” she laughed, raising a hand to wave as well, her giggle making him smile. 

“_The Lady’s Shame_ and their Captain Gendry Waters. Gendry was a midshipman on _The Black Bethe_ for many years” he told her, facing her once more. Though he expected it, the listing of the ship in the wake of the larger galley’s passing, Sansa did not, so when the deck of _The Fury_ swayed beneath them she let out a sharp gasp. 

Moving instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her, anchoring her form to his strength. Her hands held to his jacket, eyes looking up to his own. He could feel her breathing, the rise of her chest with each breath.

“Thank you” she said, her cheeks a soft rosy pink. 

"Of course" he grit his teeth, resisting the urge to kiss her. He wanted nothing more than to take her lips with his own, to promise her without speaking that his love for her was a devoted, cherishing love. From the warmth in her eyes, he could almost believe she would welcome such attentions. He could almost convince himself that the least loved Baratheon son could capture the affection of the most beautiful woman in the whole of the kingdom.

“Captain Seaworth on deck!” Storm called out a warning from the crow’s nest and Stannis reluctantly released Sansa, stepping back to offer her his arm once more. 

“How did you find our figurehead, Lady Sansa” Ser Davos asked her as they joined him on the main deck. 

“She is lovely, Ser Davos” Sansa smiled at the Seaworths. “But I believe I have fallen in love with _The Fury’s_ beauty.” 

“She is a lovely ship” Davos agreed with her. “But I am biased towards my mermaid” Davos smiled at his wife. 

“If you like, I can make you a copy of my sketch” Sansa said as she dug into her bag and pulled her book free, opening it to the pages where she had sketched the mermaid on the left side and Stannis on the right. She handed it to Ser Davos who smiled brightly. 

“I would like a copy very much, you have my thanks” Ser Davos nodded. 

“You are very talented” Lady Marya smiled. “You’ve captured the Admiral perfectly.” 

Sansa felt her cheeks heat, “Thank you, you are too kind.” Ser Davos closed the book, however, when he went to hand it back to her, _The Fury_ listed once more and the book fell to the deck. “Oh no” Sansa crouched at the same time Ser Davos did, his hand reaching the book to lift it, pages falling open to the blue satin bookmark. “No…” she whispered, cheeks burning as Davos glanced to the page, then silently closed the book, smiling warmly at her. 

“No harm has come to it, Lady Sansa” he assured her, not speaking upon the old portrait of Stannis that had been exposed to his gaze.

“Thank you” she said emphatically, tucking the book away quickly. Stannis’ hand appeared beside her and he helped her to her feet.

“All is well?” Stannis watched her closely as he offered his arm.

“All is well” she replied, taking his arm. 

“Then perhaps a spot of lunch near Hyde Park is in order before we return you to Vale Street” Stannis suggested. 

“That would be lovely, thank you” she smiled, following him as he led her back down the gangplank and onto dry land. 

“Thank you for a perfectly wonderful day” Sansa said to Stannis as he walked her to the door of number 6 Vale Street. 

“I am glad you enjoyed _The Fury_” he replied, stopping at the top of the steps. Her arm was on his and he did not wish to move away just yet. 

“I adore her,” Sansa smiled. “I never would have dreamed that I would be able to stand upon her decks.”

“I thought perhaps” he pulled the journal from his jacket pocket, extending it to her. He had made sure to grab it from his quarters aboard the ship, knowing that Sansa would appreciate the notes he had taken. “_The Fury’s_ captain’s log from the Napoleon’s second war” he explained. 

“You mean” she gasped, looking up at him. “You mean that I can read this? Is it not private?”

“It is just my notes and log” he felt his own cheeks heat and cursed his awkward nature. “If you’re going to write a proper naval adventure, it will help.”

“Thank you, thank you so much Admiral---”

“Stannis, if you please,” he corrected softly and her answering smiled was devastating. 

“Stannis” she took the journal and clutched it close to her heart. “Please, call me Sansa.” 

“Sansa” he spoke her name reverently. 

“I will read this tonight,” she said. “I will have questions….”

“I would expect nothing less” he nodded, releasing her arm. “I will return on Friday, if that is acceptable.” 

“It is” she curtsied politely and he gave a bow. “I look forward to it.” 

“Until Friday, then” he moved back as she opened the front door, vanishing inside with a lingering smile and a small wave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)


	5. Part 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fact that y'all are picking up on my Wentworth!Stannis vibe makes me SO happy! I even used Wentworth in the picset because he is my favorite. I am so glad you're enjoying it! Fluff train, all the way!
> 
> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)

“Who is she?” Robert asked, pouring himself a drink before lowering his large frame onto the plush chair opposite him. The brothers sat before the fireplace in the Baratheon town home, a large estate along Hyde Park that Stannis found too opulent for his taste. When he was forced to stay in town he usually stayed in a much more modest town home. 

“Who is who?” Stannis replied, crossing a long leg over the other, ankle resting on his knee. 

“The woman you’ve been spending all your time with” Robert continued. “I went to see you yesterday, they said you were out. Again.”

“It does not matter---”

“A mistress then? Finally?” Robert cut in. 

“Absolutely not” Stannis scoffed. “I am not a whoremonger like you.” 

Robert chuckled, “Instead, I don’t think you know that cock of yours works.”

Stannis fixed a cold glare on his elder brother, “You’ve always been so tactful.” 

Robert smirked at Stannis’ sarcasm, “So who is she? Lady Margaery perhaps? I can speak with her grandmother--”

“You will do no such thing” Stannis corrected. “I have no intention of marrying Lady Margaery.” 

“Do you have any intention of marrying at all?” Robert countered. “King Tywin gave you a title, you have a duty to it.”

“I understand that, brother” Stannis ground his teeth. “While your good father sought fit to saddle me with a title, I did not ask for such duty. Nonetheless, I will do it. Duty be damned.”

“I am still dreadfully curious about your paramour” Robert sighed dramatically. 

“She is a Lady, not a paramour and certainly not a mistress” Stannis clarified. 

“A Lady, then” Robert nodded. “Will she be at the dinner on Saturday?”

“No” Stannis shook his head. “She is not a part of society.”

“A Lady in town but not a part of society” Robert sipped his wine. “That leaves only a few options, the most likely of which is Lady Sansa Stark.” Stannis froze at this, shocked at his brother’s intoxicated deduction. “I see that I am right.” 

“Robert--”

“She is young and beautiful to be sure, no great scandal but she never debuted” Robert nodded. “Rather dull, if I remember, but beautiful.”

“She is far from dull” Stannis assured his brother. 

“So you’ve set your cap at her, eh?” Robert finished his glass of wine. “You could do worse” he looked over at Stannis. “A lot worse.”

“Are you giving me your blessing?” Stannis asked. 

Robert nodded, “Lord Stark was a good man, honorable to a fault. Once I married Princess Cersei, we didn’t speak much, but he fought well in the first war before he died” he heaved himself out of his chair and crossed to refill his glass, pausing and then carrying the decanter to his chair with him. “Marry the girl, put a son in her---hell, put a brood in her, the world needs more Baratheons. I will give you mother’s ring, Cersei bloody hates it. It’s too simple for a Princess” he scoffed.

“Robert--”

“Gods be damned, just be happy, brother” Robert told him. “For once, grab ahold of what makes you happy.” 

Sansa hadn’t left her room, there was no need. Stannis wouldn’t be by today and so she was curled up in the window seat, tucked into a thick quilt with his journal on her lap.

She ran her fingers over the worn leather cover, smiling at the engraved “S.B” in the lower corner. She traced the initials, her mind wandering back to how it felt to be in his arms on the ship, to be pressed against the solid form of his body. It had been brief, but the feeling would always be with her. 

To be in the arms of the man she loved on the deck of a great galley she had written about, daydreamed about, was nearly too surreal to be believed. 

Of course, then she nearly died of embarrassment when Ser Davos saw her sketch of Stannis’ portrait. He had, thankfully, not chosen to comment on the drawing, or the ribbon bookmark. She would have cried on the spot, should he have shown it to Stannis. 

Lunch at the park had been wonderful. Rather than sit in a crowded restaurant, they had grabbed a few picnic items and sat on the shaded grass, the four of them talking as if they had been friends forever. 

_ “I thought we were goners” Stannis gave his usual scoffing laugh as Davos retold the story of how they had managed to escape a French vessel outside of Belgium. Since they were in the shade, both Marya and herself had removed their bonnets, enjoying the cool afternoon weather._

_ Davos and Marya sat together, Marya leaned to her husband's side, absently touching her stomach and Sansa sat beside Stannis, facing the Seaworths. Stannis' hat had been discarded as well and she kept stealing glances at him as she ate her lunch._

_ “We would have been, if not for Storm and Payne shoving utensils and sour meat into the canons” Davos laughed. _

_ “In truth, I think the French were so confused as to why we were launching a restaurant at them, they peeled off. They were likely picking forks and knives out of the hull for days” Stannis chuckled and Sansa couldn’t help but laugh. _

_ “I cannot imagine having to explain to your commander why you have forks and meat hanging from the hull” Sansa giggled. _

_ “And no confirmed sinking to speak of” Stannis turned to look at her. “You’ve got a..” he reached out and she held her breath as his fingers grazed her hair and came free with a small, white feather._

_ “Oh, thank you” she took the dainty feather, their fingers briefly touching. He gave a nod and when she was sure he had forgotten about the feather, she pulled her diary from her bag and placed it on the page with his portrait, closing the pages over it._

Sansa was used to solitude, found she preferred it, but now she had a circle of friends, she had people she could talk with. She had gone to bed with a warm heart and cheeks that ached from smiling. 

When she woke, it was to see the raindrops on the window and the small oval portrait of Stannis on her night table. She had finished it, the sketch from the ship helping her to get the details of his jaw just right, and it was now in an ornate gilded frame. 

Focusing back on the journal she untied the side and opened it, smiling at his strong hand-writing across the pages. 

“You look fine” Davos laughed at Stannis as he adjusted his cravat for the tenth time. 

“Well, ‘fine’ isn’t good enough---”

“It is” Davos moved forward to take his shoulders. “She loves you, Stannis, _loves_ you.” 

“You cannot know that” Stannis scoffed. 

“I can” Davos smiled knowingly. “In her diary, she has a drawing of you---”

“On the deck, I know---”

“No,” Davos interrupted him. “This is a copy of your portrait from Dragonstone, the one that hung in the Storm’s End exhibit.”

Stannis frowned, “Well, she had said she saw the exhibit---”

“I daresay she studied it” Davos mused. “It’s an exact copy.”

“You mean…” Stannis trailed off. 

“She loves you,” Davos straightened his cravat. “Now, all you have to do is ask her to be yours.”

“You make it sound so easy” Stannis scoffed. 

“You destroyed the Greyjoy fleet, you can survive this” Davos assured him. 

“And if she says no?”

“She won’t” Davos assured him. 

“If she does?”

“Stannis” Davos laughed softly. “If she does, then both Marya and I will be _very_ shocked.”__

_ _“I am terrible at this” Stannis frowned as he pulled on his black coat._ _

_ _“We all are” Davos encouraged. “It gets easier, with time. Just be honest, not that you have an issue with that, and speak the truth, not that you have an issue with that either.” _ _

_ _“Right” Stannis nodded, glancing to his dressing table and the small velvet pouch that lay there. “Honest. Speak the truth.”_ _

_ _He thought of the ring inside of that small pouch, one he barely remembered seeing his mother wear when he was very young. It was a simple, round diamond with an engraved gold band, one he believed would look at home on Sansa’s slender finger._ _

_ _Robert had placed the ring in his hand, silently encouraging him to go after what made him happy. Robert, for all his faults, was a caring older brother, though he did not often show it. _ _

_ _“This time next moon, I will be at your side while you marry her” Davos smiled. _ _

_ _“One can only hope” Stannis sighed. “Do I pass muster?” _ _

_ _Davos looked over his uniform with a keen eye, “Aye aye, admiral” he smiled._ _

_ _He arrived at number 6 Vale Street sooner than expected, taking a steeling breath he moved up the steps and inside with stealth. _ _

_ _“Quietly--To Mister Royce, make haste” Stannis told Jory as he entered number 6 Vale Lane. The butler had nodded, taking Stannis immediately to the solar where Mister Royce awaited him. _ _

_ _“Admiral” Royce greeted without standing from his wingback chair. “I must admit, I have been waiting for some time for this.”_ _

_ _“You have?” Stannis frowned. _ _

_ _“You are here to ask for Sansa’s hand, are you not?” Royce pegged him with a stare and Stannis swallowed nervously. _ _

_ _“I am” he replied. _ _

_ _“As I said” Royce smiled. “I have been waiting for this. I daresay she has too, though she is stubbornly afraid to hope.” _ _

_ _Stannis frowned, “To hope?”_ _

_ _“That you would choose her over the society ladies” Royce motioned to the chair across from his and Stannis carefully sat. “She believes herself to be somehow ‘less’ because she is not a part of society. I suppose if I had been an Earl or Viscount it would have been better for her, but I am only a tradesman.”_ _

_ _“She is worth ten thousand of those ‘society ladies’,” Stannis stated. _ _

_ _“She is, indeed” Royce smiled. “You love her?” _ _

_ _“I do” Stannis replied without pause. _ _

_ _“Good, good” Royce nodded. _ _

_ _“My estate in Dragonstone, while old, is quite---”_ _

_ _“I do not give a damn about your estate” Royce chuckled. “Upon her majority, she will inherit Winterfell and upon my death she will inherit Runestone. You think I care about estates? You love her--”_ _

_ _“I do.”_ _

_ _“And she loves you” Royce met his gaze once more. _ _

_ _“I can hope---”_ _

_ _“I took her to that bloody exhibit everyday for the fortnight it was open. She’d sit there and stare at that portrait. I thought that once it closed she would move on. Then you walked in and I realized that you two were just...inevitable.” _ _

_ _Stannis swallowed a lump of emotion at the thought of Sansa admiring his portrait. He was not the handsome man that Renly was, or the great strongman his brother was, but perhaps Sansa found him pleasing, found him worthy. _ _

_ _“I will take care of her” Stannis promised, the words feeling inadequate but they were all he could force passed his lips. _ _

_ _Royce smiled, “I promised her mother the same thing once, though I hadn’t the damndest idea on how to be a father. Fortunately, our girl is as bright as she is beautiful. I daresay that she will take care of you.”_ _

_ _“I would be inclined to believe you” Stannis agreed._ _

_ _“You have my blessing, Admiral.”_ _

_ _“Thank you, Mister Royce” Stannis stood, extending his hand. _ _

_ _“Call me Yohn” he smiled, shaking Stannis’ hand._ _


	6. Part 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because you've all been waiting so patiently...

Sansa stood when she heard the knock at the door, crossing from the library to meet Stannis in the foyer. However when she entered the foyer, it was empty. Frowning, she returned to her table, wondering if the knock at the door had been a visitor of her guardian’s. 

She was back at the table, continuing her writing when the large figure appeared in the doorway. He was clad in his dress uniform, tall, handsome and imposing as he moved into the library.

“Stannis” she stood, rounding the table to greet him. She noticed the clench of his jaw when she took his hands and frowned, “Is all well?”

“All is well” he assured her and she smiled once more. 

“I am glad to hear it. Come, I want you to read...” she looked to their joined hands, noticing that he had not yet released hers. His hands held hers, thumbs absently moving over her knuckles, the touch intimate and intoxicating. “Stannis?” 

“There are a million words in the English language” he said softly. “More, possibly, and yet in this moment I cannot find the right ones.”

Sansa felt her heart sink, panic coursing through her. Was he saying goodbye? Had he chosen a wife? Would he abandon her. “Stannis” she swallowed back tears. “Please…” 

“I suppose the only words that matter in this moment are these” he raised her hands to his lips, gently kissing the knuckles. “I am deeply in love with you, Sansa. Deeper than the sea, truer than any North Star, I am in love with you.”

She couldn’t stop the sobs that burst free or the tears that streaked down her cheeks at his words. He loved her, as she so dearly loved him, _he loved her_. “Stannis” she cried and she felt him release one of her hands, his arm instead wrapping around her waist to guide her closer. 

“Ssh, do not cry” he soothed her, kissing her knuckles once more as she rested her forehead against his chest. 

She looked up into the face that had become so dear to her, “I love you” she sniffled, laughing now through her tears as her mind finally caught up to her heart. “I love you so much, Stannis, that the thought of losing you to another terrifies me.”

He smiled then, a genuine, true smile that transformed his face. His deep blue eyes seemed to sparkle with happiness and she realized that he had a single, charming dimple on his left cheek. 

“There is no other” he promised. “How could there be, when you have stolen every bit of me?” 

“As you have stolen me” she smiled as more hot tears streamed down her face. He released her second hand then, his own coming up to wipe the tears from her cheeks. She found herself leaning into the warmth of his touch, so when his hand cupped her cheek and jaw she sighed, nuzzling against his palm. 

“Sansa” he said quietly, barely above a whisper. “My beautiful, brilliant Sansa.”

“All that I am, is yours,” she promised. “Should you want it.” 

“I do. I want to call you my wife,” he held her tight. “I want to spend my life with the woman I love. Marry me, Sansa, be mine for always?”

She sobbed softly, “Yes, of course, yes” she smiled. “I want nothing more than to call you mine.” 

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly to his chest as she cried with happiness. After several moments he pulled back and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, with his at her waist, and savoured every second. 

“Sansa” he whispered. 

“Hmm?” she sighed. 

“I should like--that is to say” he fumbled over his words. “Would you permit me to kiss you?”

“I have never kissed anyone before” she admitted softly, as he pulled her closer. 

“Nor have I,” he replied. “I have never wanted to kiss anyone, not until you.”

“We’re to be married, my dearest love” she smiled. “I should hope you mean to kiss me every day for the rest of our lives.” 

“Every day” he promised. “Starting now.” 

"Starting now" she tilted her face to meet his as he leaned down, their lips meeting in a tentative, unsure kiss. Sansa sighed at the feel of his soft lips against her own, losing herself in the sensations coursing through her. 

Stannis felt her kiss in every inch of his body, the soft caress of her lips over his and the length of her body held against him was more than he could ever have hoped for. 

The terror of battle was nothing compared to revealing your feelings and asking a woman to marry you, he decided. No, not just ‘a woman’ but ‘the woman’. It was worth it, sweeter than any victory, when she told him that she loved him in return, that she would marry him. Sansa would be his wife, at his side forever.

Feeling bold he traced the edge of her lips with his tongue and she melted against him, her own lips parting to allow him entrance to the heat of her mouth. Her hands were clinging to his neck now, fingers in his short hair sending shivers down his spine. 

Gods he wanted her, the ache in his chest all-consuming now that she was in his arms. But he would never dishonor her, especially not in this way. So with great reluctance he pulled back, giving her one last brief kiss as he moved his mouth away. 

Her porcelain skin was flushed, eyes bright and lips swollen, she had never looked more beautiful than she did in this moment. 

“You are so beautiful” he whispered. “I can hardly believe that you will be mine.”

“I am yours,” she smiled. “And I can now say, as I am at liberty to do so, that I have always found you singularly handsome.” Her hand moved to touch his face and he turned to kiss her palm softly. 

“Oh” he realized that he had forgotten a very important piece of his proposal. He reluctantly released her, grabbing the pouch from his pocket he opened it to pull the ring free. 

“Oh, its beautiful” Sansa gasped. 

“It was once my mother’s and I believe that it perfectly suits you” he took her hand and slid it onto her finger. “A token of my love, for you my betrothed.” 

Before he realized it, Sansa had leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly around the neck. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her easily off the ground and high against his chest as her laughter filled the room. 

“We’re getting married!” she laughed, pulling back to look down into his eyes. Her hands framed his face, smoothing over the stubble on his cheeks. “I love you” she beamed, kissing his forehead. “I love you” she kissed his temple. “I love you, I love you” she kissed his cheek and chin. 

“I love you” he promised, their lips meeting in loving, passionate kiss, neither of them caring for the world around them as they celebrated their engagement. 

They did not discuss her writing that afternoon, but instead chose to bask in their celebration and enjoy each others’ company. 

“Can I see it?” Stannis asked as they sat on the sofa in the solar, warm beside the fire as rain filled the last of the afternoon. 

“Hmm?” Sansa lazily looked up at her betrothed from where she sat snuggled to his side. 

“The drawing of my portrait” he clarified. 

“Ser Davos told you” she felt her cheeks heat and hid her face in the fabric of his sleeve. 

“I believe he did so as a means to encourage me in my proposal,” he explained. 

“Then I cannot be mad at him” she smiled, biting her lower lip. He raised a hand to gently remove her lip from her teeth. 

“I am rather fond of your lips, so be nice to them if you please,” he said and she smiled. 

“I will be back” she moved from the sofa, across the hall to the library where she grabbed her diary and carried it back to resume her previous seat. She handed it to Stannis, “The ribbon was my mothers” she explained as he opened to the marked page. 

On the page opposite his portrait were a few facts and details of the Battle of Storm’s End, along with the soft feather he had pulled from her hair that she had glued in place. She watched as his fingers traced the line of the drawing, traveling along his jaw. 

“You are a talented artist,” he noted.

“It was as if, from the moment I saw you, I could not get you out of my head,” she admitted. “I wrote ‘A Tale of Two Ships’ thinking that it would purge my mind of its fascination with you, but it did not. And then, there you were, in my library” she smiled. “So very real and even more wonderful than I imagined.”

Carefully he closed the diary, placing it on the side table before he reached for her hand, “I believe I loved you from the moment I met you. I was wholly unprepared for you to walk into my life. I had resigned myself to unhappiness, to having to settle for a woman who would tolerate me, I never would have expected to fall in love.”

“That is the best time to fall in love,” she smiled. “When we least expect it and then suddenly there it is, all around us.”

He raised her hand and kissed the knuckles beside her ring, his lips lingering on her skin, “I should like to marry you quickly” he admitted. “Not for any reason other than I wish to start our life together as soon as possible.” 

“I am of the same mind” she scooted closer on the sofa. Taking a deep breath, she leaned closer, bracing a hand on his thigh just above his knee. She heard his quick intake of breath, felt the flex of muscle under her hand and smiled as she kissed him briefly. 

“Sansa” he whispered against her lips. 

“Stannis.”

He didn’t reply, merely leaned forward and claimed her lips, melding their mouths in a soft, teasing caress. She couldn’t help but whimper against him, fingers flexing against his breeches. She felt his fingers twine with hers on his leg, connecting them as they kissed. 

“Enough lazing about, love birds” her guardian’s booming voice sounded as he walked down the hall. “Come and eat your dinners, before you two bloody well starve to death” he grumbled. 

Sansa pulled back, laughing softly as Stannis gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I love you” she whispered. 

“And I you” he said, slowly standing and turning to help her to her feet. Rather than offer his arm, he kept their hands entwined, leading her to the dining room without letting her go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wolf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


	7. Part 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You've been so loving, here take a new picset....
> 
> Picset is viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187387186606/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)

“You can stop looking smug any time now” Stannis scoffed at his oldest friend as they shared an afternoon meal in a quiet corner of the Naval Officers Club near the port. They were sequestered from the others, though there were only a handful of men inside at this time of day. 

“I could, yes” Davos smirked. “But I likely won’t.”

Stannis chuckled, “I suppose you’re waiting for me to admit you were right.” 

“I could, yes” Davos laughed. “But it likely won’t happen.”

“You’re insufferable” Stannis shook his head. 

“I am sincerely happy for you” Davos said. “Marya and I both are. We adore your Sansa.”

Stannis gave a small smile, “I suppose she is ‘my Sansa’, then.”

“Due to your bloody impatience she will be ‘your Sansa’ in less than a sennight” Davos smiled. 

“I have wasted enough of my time without her, I will not waste the time I have with her” Stannis reasoned. “Why should I not use my ‘celebrity’ to procure a special license?”

“The benefits of being a war hero, I suppose” Davos shrugged. “I am sure your brother is chomping at the bit to give you a bit of wedding night advice.” 

At this Stannis froze, setting his fork and knife beside his plate, “I do not think I will be able to stomach any of Robert’s ‘advice’.”

Davos gave a small nod, chewing thoughtfully, “Do you have any ...questions?” he asked. 

Stannis’ gut reaction was to scoff and change the subject, but he paused, realizing that he might need to swallow his pride and pick the brain of a man married these ten years. After all, listening to stories of sailors’ sexual conquests was not the best source of advice for a wedding night. 

Swallowing thick he spoke softly, “I do not wish to...hurt her.” 

“Unavoidable the first time, unfortunately” Davos wiped his mouth with his napkin and sat back in his chair. “But there are things you can do to make it easier.” 

“Easier” Stannis repeated. 

“Right, let’s see” Davos glanced to his plate, then picked up a spoon and began to rearrange the mashed potatoes and peas left on his plate. 

Stannis felt his cheeks turn red, incredibly grateful for their quiet corner in the empty club. 

Sansa sat on her knees in the attic, cleaning the dust off the top of the wooden hope chest that they had placed there many years ago when she arrived. She smiled at the beautiful trout design on the top, the mother of pearl gleaming in the candlelight. 

Pulling a key from her pocket, she unlocked the front and flipped the latch free, opening a lid that had been sealed some seven years. The smell of her mother immediately filled her nostrils and she felt her eyes well with tears. Oh, that smell of roses brought back so many memories, so many conversations. 

Picking up the lace on top, she unwrapped the frame to smile at a picture of Winterfell she had painted when she was very young. Her mother had kept it, though she did not know why, it wasn’t very good. Setting it aside she moved the few books inside to find the bundle she was looking for. 

Pulling the linen free, she untied the corners to part the thick fabric. Beneath it lay her mother’s wedding dress, the beautiful ivory beaded dress she remembered admiring as a little girl. 

_ “It’s so beautiful, mama” Sansa lay on the floor admiring the dress her mother had pulled from the hope chest. “You would have looked like a princess.” _

_ “I surely felt like one” her mother smiled. “I was so afraid on my wedding day. I did not know a thing about your father,” her mother smiled. “But he was kind, and gentle.”_

_ “You did not know him?” Sansa frowned. “How could you love him if you did not know him?”_

_ “Oh my darling, our love came later, much later” her mother patted her cheek. _

_ “I will only marry if I love him” Sansa declared and Catelyn smiled indulgently. _

_ “Sometimes we do not have that choice” Catelyn smiled. “But one day, my darling, I pray that you find a man who is brave, gentle and strong. And I pray that you marry him and love him deeply.”_

_ “I shall” Sansa smiled, watching her mother re-fold the fabric of the ornate dress. “And I shall wear your dress.”_

It would be considered old fashioned now, by any standard, but with a few updates she felt she could make it modern enough to be acceptable. 

Stannis, she knew, planned to wear his uniform, and the ivory of this dress would compliment the Naval blues perfectly. Davos would stand at his side, of course, also in uniform. Sansa frowned, realizing that she did not have anyone to stand at her side. Yohn would walk her down the aisle, surely, but she would have no one to stand with her. Lady Marya, perhaps, might feel up to such a role, Sansa decided. She would ask her the next time they spoke.

Moving the heavy fabric of the bodice aside, a small pouch fell to her lap and she frowned, setting the fabric down once more. 

She untied and opened the drawstring pouch, pouring the contents into her hand. “Oh” she felt tears well once more at the sight of her parents’ wedding rings in the palm of her hand. She touched the cool metal, wishing they still held the warmth of those who had worn them so long. What she wouldn't' give to feel her parents' warmth just once more.

While her mother’s ring was beautiful, a gold band with three diamonds across the top, she found she liked Stannis’ mother’s understated ring much better. Her father’s however, she examined it closely, picking it up, was a perfectly elegant gold band. The light caught the inside and she ready the hand-engraved word, ‘Always’.

Perhaps, she smiled, as she would wear Stannis’ ring, he would wear this one. It was not common, especially as a Navy man, but she would ask him all the same. 

Depositing the rings back into the pouch she tucked it into her pocket and refocused on the dress. Wrapping it in linen she placed the painting back in the chest and locked it. Carrying her candle and the dress she descended the stairs and began work on her dress. 

“I hear you’re to be married” Cersei said to Stannis across the dinner table. 

“I am” he said curtly. There was no love lost between him and the woman his brother had married. Of course, there was no love between Robert and the woman he married either, but that was another story altogether.

“You have my congratulations” Cersei said dryly, watching him as she sipped her wine. “Lady Sansa Stark is quite beautiful.”

“I am inclined to agree with you” Stannis stated. 

“Gods, however did you manage that” Lady Olenna Tyrell chuckled from further up the table. 

“My sparkling personality” Stannis quipped, fixing the old hag with a glare. He was well aware that Lady Margaery had her eye on his last name and fortune, but he would not be suckered into her schemes. 

“Her father was a good man” King Tywin noted from the head of the table. “Loyal, honorable.”

“He was, Your Grace” Robert chimed in. 

“Who has seen to her care?” the King asked. 

“A cousin, Mister Yohn Royce” Stannis replied. 

“A fantastic writer!” Tywin exclaimed so suddenly, slamming his hand against the table, that Cersei nearly spilled her wine. “I will insist upon attending your wedding, impose upon our connection to meet Mister Royce. How delightful! I found his stories about the highwaymen of the North most diverting! I daresay he is my favorite author!” 

“Of course, Your Grace” Stannis barely concealed a smile. It seems that his Sansa had captured the mind of the King, that should prove interesting. Poor Yohn was in for a bit of trouble if he meant to keep up with Tywin’s sharp mind. 

“When is the wedding?” the King asked. 

“This Friday, Your Grace” Stannis stated. “I have delayed in my duty too long and sought a special license so that we may wed quickly.” Lady Olenna gave a dark scoff and Stannis glared at her once more. Fortunately Tywin did not look the least perturbed. 

“You have always been a dutiful man” Tywin raised his glass. “I owe you my kingdom, many times over. I look forward to meeting the woman who has captured your eye.” Olenna scoffed once more and King Tywin glared at her now. “Lady Olenna, if you have taken ill perhaps you should excuse yourself from the table.”

“I am well, thank you, Your Grace,” she replied, raising her wine glass to drink deeply. 

Stannis returned to his dinner, grateful that it seemed the King was willing to silence those who were disgruntled in his choice of bride. Now, all he had to do was tell Sansa that the King would be at their wedding. 

“Sansa?” he prompted and Sansa felt her betrothed squeeze her hands. 

“The King?” she felt light-headed. 

“Apparently His Royal Highness is quite a fan of Mister Royce’s works” Stannis smiled and she let out a nervous bubble of laughter. 

“Stannis, the king is coming to our wedding,” she whispered. 

“He is” Stannis kissed her hand. “I felt that I should warn you, as your poor guardian is likely to be overwhelmed. King Tywin is a shrewd man.” 

“Yohn will not be able to fool him” she deduced and Stannis nodded. “Oh bother.”

Stannis smiled as she worried her lower lip and he reached up to pull the plump flesh free. His beautiful Sansa, he admired her as always. Today, these two days before her wedding, she wore a simple rose pink dress with a white ribbon at her waist, her hair styled in a simple chignon. Soon this beauty would be his wife, and he was overwhelmed by the idea. 

Davos’ lesson had been informative to say the least, and he could only hope that he would be able to do them justice on his wedding night. Perhaps, he inwardly grimaced, a remedial session was required. This, of course, would not include mashed potatoes. 

He returned his attention to the matter at hand. They had taken their usual seats at the library table, this time Sansa having him review her latest chapters in ‘A Perilous Sea’, her newest naval adventure that he had been helping her to write. ‘Helping’ of course meant checking her accuracy.

“We will have to tell him, won’t we?” Sansa asked quietly. 

“He may figure it out” Stannis reasoned. “I did, and I doubt my mind is nearly as shrewd.”

“But you knew the subject matter well” Sansa countered. 

“We can take it as it comes, but just know that King Tywin will be at the church,” he said. 

“The King, at _our_ wedding” she laughed softly. “I forgot I was marrying the hero of Storm’s End. My Stannis is quite famous, you see.” 

“Famous” he scoffed. “I happened to be good at winning battles, that is no grand accomplishment.” 

“You saved the kingdom” she stated. 

“So did Davos, but the realm will never know. Scuttling a shipment of guns sent by traitors within the government isn’t exactly news worthy” he reminded. 

“You are both heroes in my mind” she leaned forward to kiss him softly. “But you are _my_ hero.”

“And you are _my_ author” he smiled. 

“I can hardly believe the King has read my stories” she marvelled. 

“You are talented, my love” he assured her.

“But the King!” she laughed nervously.

“Will be very jealous indeed when he discovers I have married the woman behind his favorite stories." 

“I should not want to be the Queen anyway” she smirked. 

“Oh?” 

“No, I shall be Lady Baratheon” she kissed him softly. “And only Lady Baratheon.”

“Good” he smiled. “Then I will not have to go to war against my own King to take you back.” 

“Never” she promised with a smile.


	8. Part 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soon.

He was certain that there was not a more beautiful woman in the world than the one standing beside him in St. Dunstan’s Church. When she told him that she was going to wear her mother’s wedding gown, rather than purchase a new one, he could not properly imagine the dress she had described. But seeing her now, in the beautiful ivory beaded lace dress, he was blown away. 

The dress, perhaps a bit old fashioned, had been updated and tailored to fit her willowy curves. A modest piece overall, with long sleeves that tapered to points over the back of her hands, and a wide, but high, neckline that highlighted the porcelain skin of her shoulders. Her hair was styled into an artful pile or curls with pearls woven throughout. 

His Sansa was simply stunning, he had been unable to take his eyes off of her from the moment she appeared on Yohn’s arm at the end of the aisle. 

They spoke their vows before the intimate gathering of their family and friends. King Tywin, Robert, Renly and Cersei had all shown, much to Stannis’ surprise, and found themselves sitting with the officers from _The Fury_ and _The Black Bethe_. The King, of course, had made a point of shaking Davos’ hand, remembering well how Davos had served his country. 

As he slipped the gold band onto her finger beside his mother’s ring, he met her eyes with a smile. They were married. Sansa was _his_ wife. 

“I love you” she whispered as they were pronounced man and wife. 

“I love you” he replied softly, raising her hand to kiss the back. 

From the church they all moved to the Baratheon town house, one Robert had graciously offered as the venue for their wedding feast. He and Sansa had been the first to arrive at the Baratheon house, taking their stolen minutes alone to share their first kisses as husband and wife. 

As the other carriages began to arrive, and Sansa had taken a personal moment to freshen up, Stannis saw his opportunity to speak privately with the King. 

“Your Grace, if I could steal a word” Stannis greeted him. 

“Be quick, I am waiting for Mister Royce to arrive” Tywin smiled. 

“That is what I would wish to speak to you about” Stannis cleared his throat. “You see, Mister Royce is not, in fact, Mister Royce.” 

“That makes no sense” Tywin scoffed. 

“It does when you realize Mister Yohn Royce is a man who gave the use of his name to his ward, so that she may share her gift with the world” Stannis explained quietly. 

Tywin’s eyes narrowed for several seconds, then widened in understanding, “You mean to say that you have just married ‘Mister Yohn Royce’ as the world knows him.”

“I have, Your Grace” Stannis replied. “That was how I met her. I sought to confront Mister Royce about one of his stories and came to find out that Sansa is the one behind them.”

The King was quiet for several moments before he laughed heartily, “You’re a smarter man than I gave you credit for, marrying her so quickly. Had I known, I would have tried to steal her away.” 

“Your Grace--” Stannis nearly choked. 

“Intelligent and beautiful women are hard to find, Stannis” the King reasoned. “I should have insisted upon meeting Mister Royce years ago. Ah, there she is now.”

Stannis turned to see Sansa approach them, hesitant and nervous. He extended his hand to her and she took it, curtsying gracefully before the King. 

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace” Sansa smiled. “Thank you for coming, I am sure you are quite busy.” 

“A King can always take time for a wedding” Tywin smiled and Stannis felt his stomach clench at the older man’s easy charm. “Especially when his favorite author is to be in attendance.” 

Stannis felt Sansa’s grip tighten on his hand, “Mister Royce is your favorite author, that is quite an honor.” 

“_You_ are my favorite author, my dear Lady Baratheon” Tywin replied. “Your husband has explained your secret and I have explained that, if I had known such beauty lay behind my favorite stories, I would have stolen it away for myself.”

Sansa laughed softly, “It is unfortunate for you then, that I have long since been stolen away by the hero of Storm’s End, Your Grace,” she smiled. “Still, I am honored that you enjoy my writings so.”

“Your husband is a very lucky man, indeed” Tywin smiled kindly as the front door opened and more guests filed in. “Should you ever wish to be an author in residence, you are welcome at the palace, and someday I would love to discuss your stories in depth. But I shall not occupy all your time on your wedding day, but soon perhaps. And do not worry, your secret is safe with me.” 

“Thank you, Your Grace” Sansa smiled as the King left them with a nod. 

“I suppose you could have been a Queen” Stannis looked down at his wife with a smirk. 

“I shall be Lady Baratheon and only Lady Baratheon” she promised once more. 

“You _are_ Lady Baratheon” he kissed her hand. “My Lady Baratheon.” 

“And you are my Admiral Baratheon” she replied. 

“I must admit, I was uncertain of you when I heard that you had managed to catch my good brother’s eye” Cersei, Lady Baratheon and Princess of the realm spoke softly from beside her as the others milled about the room. 

Stannis was talking with his brothers and Ser Davos and Marya was sitting with the children near the fire. They did not have a large assembly of people, but the people here were important to them. They had shared a boisterous meal, Robert having spared no expense for their feast and she was humbled but his show of familial affection.

She had grown used to it being her and Yohn, both of them taciturn in their own way, to be surrounded by Baratheons, Seaworths and Lannisters, was overwhelming. She could see though, Yohn was having quite an enjoyable time talking with the King.

“Uncertain of me?” Sansa frowned. 

“Lady Margaery has been trying to get her hooks into his fortune and fame since the moment Stannis stepped foot on dry land” Cersei explained. “I knew nothing first hand of your character, and did not know if you were of the same ilk.” 

“No, never” Sansa shook her head. “Lady Baratheon---”

“Call me Cersei, please” she sipped her wine with an almost lazy movement. “I can see now that you love him, I am sure anyone who looks upon you two can see that much.”

“I do love him, very much” Sansa said softly. “Enough that I was prepared to give him up, should a more appropriate lady come along.”

“Appropriate” Cersei chuckled. “Any in the _ton_ would have thrown themselves at his feet, should he have given them any sort of hope. Instead he simply terrified all of them with his glowering.” 

Sansa gave a soft laugh, “He does a bit of that, doesn’t he?”

“A bit” Cersei laughed. “I have known him many years and never seen him smile before today.” 

“What would you have done, if I was a fortune hunter?” Sansa inquired, curious as to the answer. 

“Ruined you, most likely” Cersei said plainly. “Though it might have ruined the Baratheon name in the process.”

“Make my life miserable then” Sansa reasoned. “I suppose I would not blame you for protecting your family. I cannot say I would do any differently, should my brothers have met with that same fate.”

“You look as timid as a little dove, and yet somewhere hidden you have a spine of steel” Cersei mused. 

“I have watched my family die around me, one by one until I was all that was left. My spine turned from porcelain to steel to survive” Sansa replied. 

“I believe I might actually be in danger of genuinely _liking_ you,” Cersei even sounded surprised at such a confession. 

“I should like us to be friends” Sansa admitted. “I do not have many friends, nor do I have a sister any longer. I believe it should be nice to have a friend in my good sister.” 

“I’ve never had a sister before” Cersei replied simply, sipping her wine. Sansa took that as a good sign.

Stannis had felt it all day, rooted in the back of his mind and growing steadily as the day wore on. Nerves. Twining, twisting nerves that now had his stomach tight as they bid farewell to their family and friends, Sansa kissing Yohn’s cheek and hugging him goodbye. 

Despite Stannis’ best efforts to avoid it, both Renly and Robert had given him advice in regards to the upcoming night, Robert more so given Renly’s unique proclivities. Stannis had listened, red-faced, as Robert had crudely advised him not to ‘just stick it in’, and proceeded to tell him what to do first. 

Stannis had never wanted to know about what Robert and Cersei did in their bedchambers, and given the tangent regarding silk ropes and blindfolds, he was sure that the Princess had married beneath herself for a far more carnal reason than love. 

“Be good to our girl” Yohn smiled as Stannis shook his hand. 

“Always" Stannis replied. “We will be by later in the week to gather the last of her things, if that is acceptable.” 

“Of course” Yohn smiled, though his eyes held a hint of sadness. Stannis found he could not blame him, afterall Sansa had become his daughter. 

“I love you” Sansa kissed Yohn’s cheek once more and then Stannis was helping her into the carriage that would take them to his town home. 

Nerves bubbles up in his stomach as he climbed in beside her, her slender form fitting against his side. He wrapped an arm around her, turning to meet her lips as she stole a kiss. 

“You’ve gone quiet” she noted softly in the dim light of the carriage. The driver had pointed the team toward his townhouse and soon they would be alone to celebrate their wedding night. 

“I am…” he paused, taking her hand in his. “Nervous, I suppose is the best word.”

“I am sure Robert’s advice didn’t help” she laughed softly. 

Stannis groaned, “You heard?” 

“Some” Sansa admitted. “I was talking with Cersei at the time. Fortunately, she didn’t feel it necessary to fill in the gaps.”

“Robert and Davos have given advice, but I find that I am still woefully unprepared” he whispered. “I know that I want you, more than anything. I know that I cannot wait to make love to you, to worship you. I wish to learn every curve, every freckle of your flesh. To map your beauty…”

“Ever the cartographer, my love. I cannot wait to be your wife in truth, in all ways. Together. We will figure it out together,” she assured him. “As long as I am with you, nothing else matters.” 

“I have waited all my life for you, my darling bride” he pulled her close, leaning down to kiss her. 

They shared lazy, soft kisses, clinging to each other in the darkness of the carriage until they pulled to a stop outside of the house he had let for his stay in town. They parted as the door opened and Stannis stepped out first, turning back to offer his hand to his bride. 

She gracefully descended to the sidewalk and he looped her arm over his, “Together.” 

“Together” she smiled up at him, her beauty ethereal in the evening light. He guided her up the steps, hoping in vain that the nerves in his stomach would settle soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wolf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


	9. Part 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean, it's what you've all been waiting for....
> 
> here's your E rating.

Once inside his home, Stannis introduced her to Cressen, his butler and valet, and Emma, Cressen’s niece and the housekeeper at Sansa’s disposal while they were in town. She found she liked both of them straight away, their kind smiles made her feel at home. 

She waited while Stannis gave them a few instructions, and then he was back, his hand in hers. Wordlessly he led her up the staircase to the second level, turning to her on the landing. 

“Though this is not our home, I believe some tradition should still apply,” he said as he moved, lifting her into his arms with a strong arm under her knees and the other at her back. 

Sansa gasped in surprise, feeling the strength of her husband against her. She held onto his neck as he carried her down the hall and into the large master’s chamber at the end. Before he could set her down, she took his lips, kissing him softly. He held her for several moments as they kissed before lowering her to her feet. 

He closed the door, sliding the lock into place and she couldn’t help but notice the tremor in his hand as he moved away from the door. Her darling husband, strong and brave as he was, was as nervous as she was and that was an odd comfort. 

Stannis turned back to her, and she gave a reassuring smile as she reached up to work the pins and pearls free from her hair. He shrugged out of his Naval jacket, carefully laying it over the settee near the fireplace. 

She examined him for a moment, the wide breadth of his shoulders and lean waist. She had not seen him without a jacket and realized that his shoulders truly were that broad. Setting the hairpins on the dressing table, she shook her hair free, the heavy weight hanging passed her hips, her scalp grateful to be rid of the constricting style. 

“I had no idea it was so long” he moved back to her side, running a hand over her hair. “Like you, it is beautiful.” 

Sansa smiled, “It is the exact shade my mother’s was, I was the only child to inherit her look” she explained. Taking the mass of it in her hands, she moved it over her shoulder, turning her back to her husband. “I will need your help with the buttons.”

He paused and then she felt his hands at the back of her neck, working the buttons loose with unsteady hands. Little by little he worked his way down her spine to the last button at her waist. Before she could turn back, she felt his fingers on the bare skin of her upper back, dancing across her with the lightest of touches. 

She heard him move and then his lips followed where his fingers had just been, kissing her back and then the curve of her shoulder where it met her neck. With a shrug her dress fell away, now a pile of beaded lace at her feet and she felt his rough exhale against the flesh of her shoulder. 

“Gods” he whispered, running a hand down her bare arm. 

She stepped out of her slippers and raised a hand to the laces in the front of her demi-stays, pulling them free and shrugging out of her stays, leaving her only in the thin, silk shift and stockings. She turned then, looking up into the impossibly dark eyes of her husband. She watched him as she slipped the straps from her shoulders and the fabric fell away, leaving her naked before him, save her silk stockings. 

His eyes were nearly black now, pupils wide and filled with desire as he raked them over every inch of her body. His breathing was ragged, body pulled tight as a bow string. 

“You are the most incredible beauty” he whispered. His hand twitched then paused and she reached out to take it. She stepped into his embrace, placing his hand on her hip. "And you are all mine." 

“Your turn, husband” she worked the buttons on his waistcoat and by the time it was open, the hand on her hip had gained confidence enough to wander her body. It smoothed up her back then back down, returning to her hip and thigh, before he took a deep breath and trailed it over the curve of her buttocks. 

She pushed the fabric of his waistcoat away and moved to his shirt, parting the linen to smooth her hands over the bare skin of his chest. He was lean, hard muscle and she traced every ridge, fingers moving through the springy, black and silver hair across his chest. 

He removed his hand from her body long enough to discard his waistcoat, suspenders and shirt, then moved back to pull her bare chest to his. The warmth of his flesh and the feel of his chest hair sent a shiver through her. She wound her arms around him, traveling the planes of his back as his lips took hers. 

He kissed her with a passion barely restrained, his mouth commanding and firm as he parted her lips and delved into her mouth. His hands moved across her body, driving her wild with his exploring touch. He had said he wished to map her body, and he was diligent in tracing every dip and curve. However, when her hands moved to the buttons at the front of his breeches, his hands moved to still hers. 

“I fear this will be over all too quickly if I remove my breeches just yet,” he said, his voice was dark and rougher than she’d ever heard it. 

“I do not understand” she whispered. 

“I want you, Sansa, so badly that if you touch me now it will unman me” he admitted. “Let me take care of you first, to ensure that you at least get some enjoyment from our first coupling.” 

“Alright” she gave a small nod. “I trust you, husband.” 

“I hardly trust myself in this moment,” he smiled. “You are so beautiful, I will never tire of looking at you.” 

“You are quite impressive yourself” she admired his broad chest and shoulders. 

“Come” he led her to the bed, lifting her easily to lay her on her back across the counterpane. He shed his boots before he climbed onto the bed, settling on his side beside her, kissing her once more. She sighed and snuggled against him, his hand resuming its journey across her body. 

She gasped against his lips when his hand moved to cup her breast, fingers tracing across the jeweled nipple, teasing it lightly. When she whimpered he broke their kiss, turning to watch as he rolled the peak through his fingers. 

“That feels lovely” she felt her cheeks warm, her breath catching as he teased her. 

“Your breasts are exquisite” he marvelled, trailing his hand to the curve of her hip. “The dip of your waist” he moved across her stomach. “I never imagined skin could be so smooth” he stroked over her ribs and sternum between her breasts. “So beautiful.” 

“Stannis” she felt overwarm, her body on edge, aching for what she did not know. 

“I should have known that all of you would be as lovely as that mind of yours” he smiled, hand moving back down her body. This time he did not stop at her hip, but moved to her thigh, sliding inward. He hesitated only a moment before he cupped her most intimate flesh, his fingers sliding easily into the moisture there. He cursed softly, leaning to kiss her lips once more as his hand worked her. 

Sansa could hardly breathe, could hardly think as he kissed her and his fingers stroked her. Her legs fell open as he parted her folds to stroke her in such a way that had her crying out against his mouth. 

His fingers paused and she broke the kiss, “No, do not stop” she pleaded and his fingers resumed their movement. Her head lolled back and she could feel him watching her as he worked her, over and over. 

“Stannis” she moved to cling to his shoulders, panting for air then crying incoherently as she felt her body lose control. She had never felt such pleasure, had never felt as if her body was about to come apart. It slammed into her with the force of a tidal wave and she arched against him as it took her. Heaven, she gasped as her body shook, this was heaven.

“Beautiful” she heard him whisper, his fingers slowing their ministrations. She was soaked now, embarrassingly so, but she was too overwhelmed to care. He kissed her softly, before moving away for a brief moment. When he returned, he moved atop her, having shed his breeches and small clothes. 

She drank in the sight of her husband’s naked body, the powerful form of a naval commander who had served most of his life. Everything about him was broad, large...her eyes went to his manhood, the thick length swollen, standing proudly from a nest of black curls. Soon it would be inside of her, she thought idly, with that large, angry appendage he would make her his wife and give her children. 

“Sansa” he lay over her, kissing her softly as he braced himself on his elbows. 

“Can I…” she reached for him and he gave a sharp nod. Her hand closed around him, surprised at how hot and smooth his flesh felt. He swore as she ran her hand over him and she suddenly felt like the most powerful woman in the world. 

“Please, Sansa” he begged. “Guide me inside of you, I need ...I need you” he whispered, his control long forgotten. 

She adjusted her legs, finding it best to wrap them around his hips, and moved him to her entrance. She dragged the head across her folds and he groaned aloud, jaw clenched tight. She aligned him and then he dipped inside of her, sliding in easily thanks to his earlier ministrations. 

Rather than focus on the uncomfortable stretch of her body around his, she watched her husband’s face as he sank into her, marvelling at the pleasure written on his every feature. Her husband was a man who was always in control, always proper and stoic, but the man above her right now was so far removed from the glowering man he was beyond the walls of their room. She whimpered at the brief shot of pain, her hands gripping his biceps tightly as he took her maiden’s gift and filled her to over-full. 

Oh Gods, she sighed. It felt wonderful...

Stannis held himself as still as possible within his wife’s tight, drenched body, knowing that if his control slipped in the slightest he would come embarrassingly quickly. Sansa was beyond beautiful, her porcelain nudity nearly unmanning him before they even reached the bed. Her skin was smoother than any fabric he had ever felt and more beautiful than any sight in the world. 

He had done his best to remember Davos’ horrifying lunch lesson, stroking and teasing her in such a way that had her writhing in pleasure. Every bit of embarrassment in the club was worth it, watching her come apart at his touch was intoxicating and he could easily become addicted. 

No, that was not true. He was already addicted to her and her touch. 

He had felt her tense in pain, but he was so lost to the pleasure of being enveloped by her body that it had barely registered in his mind. Being inside of her, connected to her in the most intimate of ways was worth every minute he had waited. There were no ghosts of sordid encounters past, it was only them in their marriage bed, together in the awakening of their pleasures.

Her hand on his jaw, soothing the tense muscle had his eyes opening to fix on her. She was smiling, skin flushed and lips swollen. Her eyes were bright, but not with tears, there was only love shining back at him. 

“Husband” she whispered. 

“Wife” he replied. “Are you...in pain?” 

She shook her head, “No, my love,” she assured him. “Only full.” 

He gave a nod, “I can..” he moved his hips slowly, sliding deeper, to the hilt inside of her and she arched beneath him. 

“Oh--now I am full” she sighed. 

He groaned and lowered his forehead to hers, “I will make it up to you, every night, every day for the rest of our lives” he said. “But I fear this first time will be quick. I am already so close...” 

“There is nothing to make up to me” she smoothed her hands down his neck to his shoulders. “I would rather this first time be quick, than one in slew of lovers” she smiled. “We belong only to each other. I will be the only one to see you this way.” 

“I love you” he kissed her swollen lips. 

“Show me” she encouraged. 

With a groan he rocked his hips, each stroke of her body around his surging through his body. The wet slide of her flesh felt like heaven, and he soon found the awkward rhythm and odd angle that had her sighing against his lips as they kissed. 

“Fuck” he growled, unable to stop the crude curse as one of his hands moved to grip her thigh, then ass tightly, holding her as he took her. He was holding back the urge to fuck her into the mattress, trying to last as long as possible before he came but he was already chasing his release. It was torture and a losing battle, he was not going to last...

“Stannis” she ran her hands over his chest. His eyes met hers, “Come into me” she whispered and those words shattered his control. Sliding to the hilt a final time he came, nearly choking in pleasure as he poured into her body, each pulse a heated jet of seed that went deep into her core. 

It seemed to last forever, but eventually he felt himself soften and slip from her body. He nearly collapsed atop her, but managed to move to her side, panting for air as his body trembled. 

Sansa rolled to her side to face him, a serene smile on her face. He kissed her forehead before running a hand over his face, “Gods…I love you, wife.” 

“I love you” she whispered, shifting slightly. “Oh..” she frowned, looking down. 

“What?” he sat up to watch as she parted her thighs and the sticky mess of his seed that covered her fiery curls. Unable to stop himself, he reached out to touch her, feeling the mixture of their fluids on her body. An odd sense of pride coursed through him, his wife’s most intimate parts covered with his spend. His.

“Oh” Sansa mewled as he stroked her, now easily finding the swollen bud that had once been likened to a pea. Gods, he would never eat peas again, not in company anyway. 

He lay back beside her, pulling her into his embrace, hand still between her legs, pleasuring her. Alternating between deep kisses and soft cries, he held her as she came against his hand, hips grinding against him. 

Not so unbelievably, he was hardening once more, driven wild by her cries of pleasure and the forty years of celibacy he had to make up for. The floodgates had opened and there was no going back. He was addicted to his wife, to her touch and the feel of her body around him. 

“Can I take you?” he whispered, worried she might be too sore. He would not force his attentions on her if she was in pain. 

“Yes” she sighed and he rolled her to her back once more, sinking into her, this time without instantly having to fight back his climax. Her legs wrapped around him, tighter this time, pulling him back each time he withdrew. “I love this” she whimpered. “You inside of me.” 

“The feeling is mutual” he kissed her lax lips. “I would spend the rest of my days inside of you if I could.” 

“Yes…” 

This time he was able to alternate between smooth and slow to hard and fast, the wet sound of their bodies filling the room. Her own fluid and his previous spend made the movements easy, sinfully delicious. 

Remembering another errant piece of advice, Stannis reached between their bodies as he moved his hips, finding her bundle of nerves and stroking it slowly, gradually speeding his pace. The result was nearly instant, her sensitive body bowing at the pleasure; her whimpers turned to cries and then gasps as he made love to her. 

Though slightly clumsy, he kept pace until her nails dug into the muscle of his shoulders and then she screamed his name, her body clamping around his cock like a fist, fluttering and pulling him deeper. He felt every pulse of her climax, her peak surrounding him. 

He chased his own pleasure, his thrusts never relenting until he was cursing and coming into her a second time, her body trembling around his as he coated her inner walls. 

This time he did collapse atop her, both of them panting heavily pleasure thrumming through their bodies like a heady drug. He felt her lips against his neck, soft and affectionate and he rose up to softly kiss her. 

“We’re never leaving this room” she whispered with a blissful smile on her flushed face. 

“Never” he smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I did it justice.


	10. Part 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Likely just an epilogue left. I really just wanted this to be a happy, fluffy story. The world needs some fluffy romance right now and I love this pair so much. 
> 
> Picsets are viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187387186606/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)

Sansa woke slowly, every muscle in her body aching in delicious pleasure, her hair a tangled mess of curls. She pushed the hair from her face and turned to see Stannis asleep beside her, his face relaxed in slumber. He looked so much younger this way, the frown etched onto his face gone, his lips parted slightly.

They had been married a sennight and had hardly left their chambers. They had ventured to the dining room once, but soon found themselves laughing their way back up the stairs and hiding away in their rooms. If it was normal for newlyweds, she knew not; she knew only that she wished they would never have to leave this room again. 

If her husband was handsome in his uniform, he was devastating in his nude glory, a man made of hard, lean muscle and broad frame. She even loved the short beard that had begun to grow since their wedding, enjoying the way it emphasized his sharp jaw. 

She loved the feel of his body, the feel of his touch and the feeling of him inside of her. She smiled to herself, wondering how she had ever been afraid of their marriage bed. There had been pain, yes, but the connection she felt with her husband had more than made up for it. She belonged to him now, and he to her, she wouldn’t change a second of it.

Stannis mumbled something in his sleep, a long arm banding around her to bring her snug to the front of his body. Sansa smiled, loving the way he sought her out, even in slumber. The world would never know that the mighty Admiral Baratheon cuddled to his wife at every turn. 

His face nuzzled into her hair, lips resting against her shoulder as he settled into sleep once more. 

It was early yet, judging by the grey light in the window, but she was too excited to go back to sleep. Today they would visit her guardian, gather the last of her things and then tomorrow they would sail for Dragonstone for a wedded trip. Sail! She was going to sail on _The Fury_ and she could hardly wait, she was so excited. 

Stannis had, of course, offered to take her by land if she would be more comfortable, but she had ridden in carriages before. She had never sailed on the open sea, never felt the wind across her face or the roll of the tide. She couldn’t wait to experience it at her husband’s side. 

She was so lost in thought that she did not realize that Stannis’ hand had begun roaming her body until it cupped her breasts, rolling her peaks between his fingers. 

“Husband” she sighed, looking over her shoulder to find his deep blue eyes watching her. 

“I love waking up beside you” he said quietly. “To a curtain of red across my vision.”

“That is fortunate, for I love sleeping in your arms,” she replied. 

“I am a very fortunate man” he ran his hand over her body, following each dip and curve. 

“Do not tease me” she rocked herself against him and he growled against her shoulder. 

“Impatient little thing” he chided, sliding his hand to her inner thigh and then to her folds. She lifted her leg enough to allow him access, sighing as he stroked her. 

“Stannis” she gasped, arching back against him. 

“You’re stunning” he whispered. “Watching you, worshipping you as you come apart, crying my name, is the most beautiful thing in this world.” 

His strong hands teased and touched her until she was soaked once more, her body rubbing against his for any sort of relief. His hand moved away but then she felt the blunt head of his manhood, and she moved just enough to allow him to sink into her from behind her. 

“Oh” she gasped, her head pillowed on one of his arms, the other wrapped around her tightly. From this angle she felt incredibly full, his body hitting something inside of hers that had her crying out in pleasure. 

Had someone tried to explain to her the details of the marriage bed and how they would feel, she never would have anticipated the feeling of Stannis’ body inside of hers. With him filling her, she felt complete, she felt loved and it brought her more pleasure than she imagined. 

She attributed this, of course, to the man himself. Her love for him, their connection, magnified everything until she felt as if they were two sides of the same soul, cut from the same length of cloth and finally united after years apart. 

Stannis’ lips attached themselves to her neck, his hands wandering her body as he rocked himself within her, over and over. 

One of her hands held to the bedsheets, the other moving to his hip, feeling the flex and play of muscle beneath her hand. Her husband’s body was awe-inspiringly powerful, and she loved feeling each piece of him as he moved. 

His fingers returned to where they were connected, parting and teasing her sensitive flesh until she was crying out into the room. She turned her face into the pillow as she screamed her pleasure, her body shaking in his arms as they wound around her and he growled against her shoulder. 

They lay together, panting for breath as they came down from their peaks. She couldn’t help but whimper when, eventually, his body slipped from hers. 

“Perhaps” Stannis gently kissed her shoulder. “A warm bath will do us both good.” 

“Perhaps” she swallowed. “But at this rate, my love, we are never going to leave this room.” 

“Would it be such a sin?” he nuzzled her neck. 

“Never” she sighed. 

“And what is this?” Stannis smiled, picking up a lace wrapped frame. They were gathering the last of her things from number 6 Vale Lane, though there wasn’t much. His Sansa wasn’t a woman with a wide array of dresses and jewelry, in truth it was mostly books and papers that she had to pack. 

Sansa had expressed an interest in keeping in close touch with her guardian, so his solicitor had been hard at work searching for a nearby residence they could keep in the city, allowing them to visit at any time. Yohn Royce was the closest thing she had to a parent in this world and he would not keep her from him. 

“No---” Sansa moved to grab it from his hands but he held fast. “Stannis” she pouted and he couldn’t help but admire her beauty, as always. 

“What is it?” he asked. 

“It’s embarrassing” she held her hand out. “May I have it, please?” 

He placed the lace in her hand, “What could be so embarrassing that you must hide from me?” he asked softly. 

She bit her lower lip briefly, then released it, “It will seem silly” she fingered the lace. 

“My darling, I could never think you silly. You are the least silly woman I know” he kissed her forehead, savouring the lavender smell of his wife that seemed to surround him. With her he had found happiness and pleasure that he had never hoped to find in this world. This very morning they had dragged themselves, reluctantly, from the bed to bathe and dress before visiting Mister Royce. He could have easily spent another day pleasuring her in every way that came to mind.

He watched as she unwrapped the small gilded frame, surprised to see his own visage staring back at him from the canvas. 

“I wanted to have something of you,” she whispered. “For when you decided to---”

“No” he shook his head. “I could never leave you” he reached out and took the frame, recognising it as a miniature rendition of his portrait from Dragonstone. She had recreated it fantastically, painting with a careful hand and capturing his likeness. “Perhaps” he smiled, trying to assuage her worry in her eyes. “You would paint me one of yourself, to carry with me.”

“You would--I mean” she smiled. “You do not find it odd that I painted this?” 

“Not at all” he replied. “I have loved you for so very long, Sansa. I can hardly find fault if you have loved me in return.” 

“I do love you, my husband,” she smiled. “I committed you to memory so that I may always have you at my side.” 

“‘Till death do we part, my love” he promised. Pulling her into his embrace. Now that he was at liberty to do so, he found that he longed to hold her, to touch her at all times throughout the day. Propriety be damned, he was not ashamed to be in love with his wife. “I should like a portrait of my wife, to carry with me, to have….”

“Then I shall paint you one” she smiled up at him, her arms wrapping around his waist. 

“Soon your portrait will hang beside mine in Dragonstone” he held her close. “That portrait you admired so much with forever be beside yours, and you will always be remembered as my beloved lady wife.” 

“I hope,” she ran a hand over his waistcoat to his shoulder, beneath his jacket. “That our children and grandchildren will be able to admire such portraits.”

“I will do everything in my power to make that happen” he promised. 

“As will I” she assured him, her hand running to his waist and then back, holding him tightly. It warmed his heart that his wife was so partial to touching him, as he was her. He leaned down to take her lips, kissing her softly and with every ounce of affection he held for her. 

“How long will you be in Dragonstone?” Yohn asked them as they shared an intimate dinner in the small dining room of Royce’s townhouse. 

“No longer than a moon’s turn” Stannis replied, glancing to his wife. “Upon our return, our city residence at number 6 Arryn Street will be available.”

“Arryn Street” Sansa’s eyes shot to his. “That is…”

“We will share a back garden with number 6 Vale Street” he smiled at her. 

“We…” Sansa trailed off, setting her spoon aside. “We will be neighbors?”

“We will, my love” Stannis assured her. 

“Oh” she reached for his hand, taking it in a firm grip as she wiped her eyes. “That is wonderful.”

“It is indeed” Royce gave him a nod of approval. 

“I have no desire to stay in the Baratheon House, and Arryn Street is a short drive to the port” Stannis reasoned. “Should we be blessed with children, Yohn, you will be their only grandparent. That is not something to be taken lightly.” 

At his words, Sansa choked on a sob, clinging to his hand tightly as she covered her mouth with her napkin. “Stannis..”

He turned to her, smiling softly as she smiled through her tears, “A wedded gift of sorts” he told her. 

“I love you, so much” she beamed. 

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back with a smile, “And I you.” 

“She is every bit as beautiful as I remembered her to be” Sansa declared beside him as they exited the carriage in front of _The Fury_. 

“I daresay she would same the same of you, my love” Stannis said as he wrapped his wife’s hand over his arm. “Are you ready to sail for Dragonstone?” he asked. 

“Absolutely” she smiled. 

He glanced to the men carrying their trunks from the carriage and up the gangplank onto the ship. Sansa would be in the Captain’s quarters with him, of course, sharing the small bedroom-cum-office with him for their journey. For the first time in his life, he would share his love of the sea with another.

Walking to the gangplank, he saw that the whole of his crew had gathered on the decks, masts and shrouds, all watching as he escorted his bride to the ship. All of these men he had sailed with for 3 years or longer, they were a tight knit crew, akin to family. They had waited in port while he searched for a bride, and while they teased and prodded him, they were a crew he could depend on. Pausing, he smiled to himself. 

“Is all well?” Sansa looked up at him. 

“Of course, my dear” he assured her. “It is only that I have realized something, something rather important.”

“What is that?” she asked. 

“That _The Fury_ is the only home I have known, until now,” he replied. 

“I do not understand,” she said. 

“Allow me” he said, bending down to lift her into his arms, one at her knees, one at her back, much like he had on their wedding night. 

“Stannis!” she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he walked up the gangplank with her in his arms. 

The crew’s raucous cheering and whistles could be heard across the docks, all turning to watch as he carried his bride up to the ship, kissing her soundly the moment his boots reached the main deck. 

“My bride” he whispered. 

“My husband” Sansa beamed, holding him tightly as the crew cheered around them. “I do so love you.” 

“And I love you” he replied. “From here, we sail to the rest of our lives.” 

“I cannot wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wolf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


	11. Part 11 - Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all SO MUCH for reading! I know this piece is short, but I really just wanted to write a fluffy, upbeat piece! I hope you loved it!
> 
> More stories soon, as always! :D <3

Stannis sat before the fire in the study, enjoying a cup of tea and the rare silence of their townhouse at number 6 Arryn Street. Christmas was in a few days and they had returned to town from Dragonstone on _The Fury_, arriving in time to celebrate the holiday with their families. 

He particularly enjoyed this seat because, from here, he could watch her as she worked. He would observe her as she wrote, admiring her smooth hand and the way her nose scrunched in concentration, occasionally answering any questions she may have, and simply enjoy the view. Behind her was a large window, the afternoon sun spilling around her and giving her the appearance of an angel. His angel.

Today, however, her ink and most recent naval adventure, a category for which she has become known for, were tucked away and she was wrapping the last of the Christmas presents that they had staunchly kept hidden. 

She was a picture of beauty, the Duchess of Dragonstone. Having grown only more graceful with age and maternity, Sansa was widely known in the _ton_ for her beauty. This of course, might also be the result of the favor shown to her by King Tywin and her close friendship with Princess Cersei. He chuckled to himself, knowing that King Tywin had tried every trick in the book to catch Sansa’s favor but was always rebuffed. 

He watched as she tied the last bow, standing to place the wrapped parcel with the others. Returning to her papers she grabbed several and then turned to search the bookshelves behind her. It was when she moved to grab the ladder that he stood. 

“My love” he caught her waist, a waist rapidly growing once more. 

“Stannis” she smiled. “You worry too much, I will be fine.” 

“Then allow me to assist you anyway” he countered, keeping her steady as she grabbed a thick tome from the top shelf and descended to the carpet. 

“Thank you, my hero” she set the book aside and smiled up at him. 

“You carry precious cargo, I just wish for you both to be safe” he pulled her into his embrace, the small swell of their child between them. It was hardly visible in her dress, but he knew it was there, another strong Baratheon. 

“I suppose I should be grateful that you have relaxed a bit since our first” she teased him, reminding him how worried he had been her entire first pregnancy. “I did so worry about you then.”

From the moment she told him that she was with child, he worried about both her and the baby. He had been a wreck, truly, and it had taken Yohn, Robert and Davos to keep him calm while Sansa labored into the night, her screams tearing him apart. His pride in having planted his seed so quickly after marriage melted as he listened to her sobs. _He_ had done that to her...

But his terror faded as he saw her, flushed, sweaty and crying tears of joy as she held their son, Steffon, for the first time. She was smiling the most beautiful smile, her arms clutching the bundle to her breast. _A son, my love! Our son! Oh, he is perfect_ she had cried. She had given Dragonstone an heir less than a year into their marriage. His wife was truly a marvel. 

Now, a decade into their marriage, their house was filled with sons. Five of them, to be exact, with another child due next year. Sansa was praying that she would have a daughter, a little girl to spoil and Stannis hoped that his wife was granted her wish. He found their sons all quite handsome and wished to have a daughter as beautiful as her mother. 

Each labor was easier, for him at least, and as their children grew he marvelled at their personalities and looks. While they were all Baratheon in look, with dark, inky hair and deep blue eyes, he was glad that they also had Sansa’s warm heart and easy smile. 

Steffon could be Stannis’ copy, or so Robert said, and though he was a serious boy, he loved stories of wild adventure and sailing with his father and Uncle Davos. Royce, their second born was now 7, and he decided at a very young age that he was going to be a pirate; Stannis was certain Davos or Edric were to blame for this. 

Eddard and Davos came in quick succession, now 5 and 4 respectively. Both boys were exceptionally bright and often found together, given their close ages. While they did not mind the sea, they had a love for Sansa’s picture books and stories, usually lying beneath the table while she wrote, marvelling over a large atlas or illustrated text. 

Their youngest, Brandon, was only 2 and so far he was the first with bright Tully blue eyes. He was usually with Sansa was but partial to Grandpa Yohn, so that meant that sending all of the boys across the garden to Yohn’s care, easy. 

Once they had settled into their residence on Arryn Street, and their neighbors grew comfortable at having a Duke and Duchess next door, they tore down the back garden wall, connecting and combining their garden with Yohn’s. It was a haven in the madness of the city, and an easy way to send their children to their grandfather. 

“You know” Sansa’s voice broke into his wool gathering. 

“Hmm?” 

“The children will be gone at least another half-hour” she reached out to touch his waistcoat, as he wore no jacket at home. Reading her thoughts me moved closer, guiding her and then lifting her to sit on her large desk. “Stannis” she giggled as he lifted her skirts and moved between her legs. 

“If we only have a half-hour, I do not intend to waste a second” he leaned down to kiss her as his hands smoothed over the silky skin of her thighs. She wore no small clothes, her most intimate part bare, and with a now-expert movement he was able to tease and stroke her into readiness in no time. They had gone to their marriage bed innocents, but a decade later and they knew exactly how to drive each other wild. 

Robert took credit, of course, stating his advice had helped Stannis to plant the seed, for it is strong. And obviously Stannis had planted it well. Many times over. Davos would just chuckle, ensuring that each and every time they dined with the Seaworths, peas were on the table. Stannis never touched them.

“Stannis” she panted against his mouth, her own hands working the flap of his breeches. The moment his cock was free she was stroking him, moving him to where she wanted him most and he, of course was a loving husband, and obliged her. 

He would never tired of hearing the breathless sigh she gave each time he entered her for the first time. It was a mixture of passion and relief, as if she had been waiting for him to return to her. She had told him many times that she did not feel complete until he was inside of her, and he understood, as he only felt at peace when connected to her. 

Though they did not have much time before they were flooded with children once more, he did not rush, but moved slowly, kissing her deeply as he made love to her.

It went without saying that the palace’s grand ballroom was absolute Christmas chaos. King Tywin had insisted on having the entire family celebrate here, as there were now too many children for the Baratheon townhouse. 

In the corner of the ballroom, beside the fireplace was an enormous Christmas tree, decorated in rich gold and red. It was the largest yule tree Sansa had ever seen, and the boys’ eyes had gone wide at the sight. 

Of course, the moment they saw the Seaworth boys and Robert’s daughter by the large piles of presents and food, they ran to join them. Brandon remained in Stannis’ arms, overwhelmed by the decorations and opulence around them. 

“Finally, thank the Gods” Cersei came to greet them. “I thought they were going to go crazy waiting for the boys to get here.” 

Sansa laughed, hugging her good sister, her laugh grew louder when their stomachs, both growing, bumped and gave away their secrets. “Merry Christmas. How wonderful” Sansa squeezed Cersei’s hand. 

“When?”

“Perhaps in May” Sansa replied. 

Cersei laughed, “Then the Baratheon brothers are in for a stressful month.” 

“Robert will go hunt, no doubt” Stannis scoffed. 

“He is determined to stay this time” Cersei raised a brow. “He’s rather certain he will handle it better than you, I daresay.” 

Stannis scoffed once more, shaking his head as Robert arrived. Sansa could tell that Robert had already had a few drinks, as the large man grabbed his wife and nuzzled his face into her hair, mumbling against her neck. 

Cersei raised a brow, listening to her husband before patting his hand where it lay over her stomach, “Perhaps you need to eat, dearest.” 

“You know what I’d love to eat---”

“Robert” Stannis chided and it was then Robert noticed them. 

“Merry Christmas!” Robert boomed. 

His voice drew attention and they were pulled into the rest of the room. They greeted Marya and Davos, the Seaworth boys and their daughter Arianne waving from where all the children and young adults sat together. 

Sansa saw Yohn, seated by the fire with the King and smiled, moving to greet them. “Merry Christmas” she leaned down, carefully, to kiss Yohn’s cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, my dear” Yohn smiled. Stannis shook his hand next and Brandon crawled from Stannis’ arms to chat happily with his Grandfather. 

“I see, greet your King second” Tywin chuckled. 

“Age before beauty, Your Grace” Sansa teased as she curtsied. “Merry Christmas.” 

“Flatterer” he stated. “It’s a good thing you’re so beautiful.”

“Besides, I figured you would be patient because I brought you something.” 

“Did you?” Tywin smirked. “Jewels? Gold? Proposal to run away together?” 

“Better,” she saw Stannis roll his eyes from the corner of her vision. Her husband found it singularly hilarious that the King, a man feared across the world, was so besotted with her.

“Hardly” Tywin scoffed, but his eyes went wide as she pulled the bound novel from the cloth bag she had carried in. 

“I have written the story of Admiral Baratheon of Storm’s End and I have written of the heroics of The Onion Knight of the _Cobblecat_,” she knelt before the King’s chair and set the thick, leather bound book on his lap. “And this is the story of the Great Lion.”

He reached out to touch the book, the red leather cover embossed with a golden lion, a crown atop its head. This time, however, it did not read ‘Mister Yohn Royce’ at the bottom, but ‘Lady Sansa Baratheon’, a woman recognized by the King as his official biographer, much to the shock of the realm. 

“Well now” Tywin marvelled at the cover. 

“I told you, better than gold,” she replied. “This is the only copy bound like this, painstakingly made just for His Royal Highness, the rest are bound in black leather and will be in stores early in the year” she reached out to cover his hand that lay on the cover with her own. “Thank you for trusting me with your story.” 

“I would not have trusted it to anyone else,” he smiled. “I cannot wait to read it!”

“Yes, but you must wait” Jaime, the Crown Prince’s voice joined them. “Because it is Christmas and you cannot vanish from the party.”

Tywin scoffed, “I am the King, I can do what I like.” 

“Any man who says ‘I am the King’---”

“Oh hush” Tywin smirked at this eldest son. 

Stannis’ hand appeared at her side and she took it with a smile, his strength helping her to stand. As she did so, she cupped the weight of her stomach, her balance already a bit off because of her condition. 

“I see I should offer you congratulations as well” Tywin smiled knowingly. “Who would have guessed that the Baratheons were such a prolific lot.” 

“Thank you, Your Grace” Stannis replied, keeping her hand in his. “Though I cannot speak for Renly, I believe Robert and I are only such as a result of happy marriages.”

Tywin laughed, smirking as he always did when Stannis subtly reminded him that she had married Stannis before the King could have her. She only looked up at her husband and smiled, loving him even more than she did the day she married him ten years ago. 

When they returned home that night, children exhausted and carrying presents about (Gods did the King spoil them), Sansa was surprised to see a very large wooden crate in the foyer. 

“Stannis?” she asked, turning to see him smiling. 

“Father, what’s this?” Steffon marvelled, trying to climb to the top. 

"A Christmas surprise" Stannis announced.

A sudden whimper then ‘bark’ filled the room and Sansa’s eyes shot to Stannis’, “No!” she gasped. 

“That’s a dog!” Steffon cried. 

“A dog!” Royce clamored to see.

“Puppy?” Ed and Davos perked up, suddenly no longer exhausted. 

“They took a considerable amount of time to locate” Stannis said. “Once the boys were a bit older, I decided to start looking. Had I known it would take so long I would have started sooner.”

It was fortunate that Sansa was holding Brandon’s sleepy form, this left Stannis free to open the top of the crate and pull out not one or two, but three Northern wolf pups, handing them carefully to the boys who giggled louding, struggling to handle the excited puppies. 

“Stannis” she marvelled at their silver and white coats. 

“They were abandoned near Winterfell, found by a friend of your family’s, a Mister Jory Cassel” Stannis explained. “He knew I was searching for a wolf for Lady Sansa Stark, and I told him that I could not bear to separate a family. Now our boys have boys of their own.” 

“We get to keep them?” Royce gasped. 

“You do, but you must take care of them” Stannis smiled at his sons who all nodded emphatically, identical heads of black hair bobbing. 

“We will!” Steffon assured him. 

Brandon wiggled in Sansa’s arms, exhaustion forgotten as he decided that wanted to see the puppies up close. So Sansa set him down, moving to kiss her husband, “You are incredible” she whispered. 

“You told me once that you wanted a wolf, my darling wife” he said. “My only regret is that is took me several years to make that wish come true.”

“You, Stannis Baratheon, have made every one of my wishes come true” she kissed him softly, the boys laughing and pups barking around them. “I love you.” 

“You were my only wish, Sansa. Everything after making you my wife has been nothing short of Elysium, my love.”

Sansa leaned against her husband’s strength, both of them watching their boys squeal in happiness as the puppies wiggled and climbed all over them, unanimously declaring this the ‘best Christmas ever’! Perhaps, she smiled, it was the best Christmas _so far_, and she looked forward to many, many more with her husband and children.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picsets are viewable [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187344400006/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/) and [HERE](https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/post/187387186606/the-admiral-au-regency-in-which-admiral/)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


End file.
